What Might Have Been
by LadyDeb1970
Summary: Now complete When Rick lashes out at Ardeth one time too many, a vengeful Lady Ardath decides to teach him a lesson he'll never forget. . .by showing him what things would have been like without Ardeth's aid.
1. Prologue: This is all my fault

Disclaimer: Ardeth, Rick, Evy, Jonathan, Anck, Alex, historical figures and the Egyptian deities named herein do not belong to me. Nor do Yanit or Nizam Toth (although I'd be willing to trade for Ardeth) On the other hand. . .Celia and Miranda, Lady Ardath, and the various original characters, DO belong to me.  
  
Warnings: Some petting between various married couples. Some fighting, but then, this is a Mummy fic.  
  
Prologue  
  
Rick O'Connell lost track of how long he sat here. It seemed like his world only consisted of this room, and those who went in and out. One of those people now looped arms around his neck, saying softly, "You should get some rest. . .if not for yourself, then for him. He needs you strong right now, Rick, not exhausted." The American shook his head, his eyes focused solely on the man lying in the bed.  
  
"It's my fault, Evy. . .if I wasn't such an ass, none of this would have happened," Rick answered. He shook his head, trying to shake the lump in his throat with the motion. Rick O'Connell wasn't a man who usually bothered with fluffy sentiment or with such guilt, but usually, his best friend wasn't dying because of something he did or failed to do. In this case. . .protect his pregnant wife, who was due any day now.  
  
Evy hugged him gently, whispering, "Celia was angry with you, Rick, angry and scared. She simply lashed out. Ardeth w. . ." Her voice trailed off as Rick pulled her into his lap. The American looked away from his friend, long enough to stare into Evy's brown eyes. His wife. One of the two. . .soon to be three. . .most important people in his life. The mother of his child, and the center of his entire world.  
  
"Ardeth is unconscious and likely dying, Evy. He collapsed at the train station, and just lay there for god knows how long. Don't. . . please don't tell me. . .that Ardeth would understand. Please don't. Because there is a very good chance he will never wake up," Rick replied. Evy just sighed, tightening her arms around Rick's neck. He closed his eyes, his heart aching as he remembered how everything began, only days ago.  
  
It actually began three months earlier, when Rick and Evy finished up their final dig in Egypt before returning home for the birth of their child. Ardeth just asked Rick, when Evy first started talking about the expedition, to dissuade his wife. *There are things at that site, my friend,* Ardeth said softly, *which are best left to the sand and away from the eyes of humans.*  
  
Oh yeah, that sounded *real* familiar to the American. Rick had no desire to go on that expedition, and he DID try to talk his wife out of it. But as usual, he couldn't deny Evy. One of these days, he would learn not to do things like that. Whenever he couldn't say no to his wife, bad things ended up happening. To them, to the people they loved. The item they found this time, a gorgeous necklace, was found in a temple to Isis. According to Evy. . .or rather, Evy's memories. . . it belonged to the mother of Nefertiri.  
  
Rick wasn't too sure about that. There were no curses, no catches, to the best of Evy's knowledge. But Rick's own instincts were telling him that the necklace was dangerous. Ardeth only asked them to stay away from sites if they were dangerous to humanity as a whole. While Imhotep was neutralized as a threat, there were other evils in the world. . .one of which was also found at Hamanuptra. Khaldun. Five months passed since his defeat at the hands of Lady Ardath, but Rick preferred to stay away from Hamunaptra. He hated that place. Hated it.  
  
Ardeth and his new wife Celia were tying up some loose ends before leaving for their honeymoon, four months after their wedding. Rick was still amazed that Ardeth even *got* a honeymoon. They were going to England and Scotland, while Altair kept her new granddaughter. Miranda would be all right, since she knew her mother would be with Ardeth. Never mind that they were both vulnerable, and she saw them both hurt badly. Ardeth would protect Mommy, and Mommy would protect Ardeth. End of story.  
  
They would spend some time with Evy and Rick before heading north into Scotland. Rick wondered why they would go to Scotland. Celia smiled and reminded him that she was of Scottish extraction, just as Lady Ardath was. Which made sense. On the other hand, Rick had to wonder if Lady Ardath was as scary as Celia was when she was angry. He sure hoped not. Celia was scary enough, even without her husband's height, black robes, and tattoos. She was alive, and Lady Ardath was dead. That meant the late concubine could do a lot more damage to Rick than Celia could, if she wanted.  
  
Good-byes were said, and hugs exchanged, and vows to write. Evy was a demonic letter writer, and Ardeth answered her letters, if only to be polite. Evy wept as they left Egypt. . .it was the first time she was away from her Med-jai family in almost a year, and it was difficult for her to say good-bye. But they both wanted this baby born in England. . .and it was time for Ardeth and Celia to start their new life, with a few less distractions.  
  
Things went well since their return. . .at least, Rick thought so. No scary guys, head to toe in red. No bracelet threatening to suck the life out of his son. Nothing. For a few months, Rick thought it was over. Things would finally settle down for his family, and he could concentrate on loving his wife and raising his children. Evy announced that she knew what she wanted to name their daughter, but she didn't want to tell him yet.  
  
Alex returned to boarding school shortly after Ardeth and Celia's wedding, accompanied by Jonathan. Evy's brother didn't want to go back to England. He was still recovering his memories of being Nassor, and he wanted to remain with Celia and Ardeth. Sometimes, things came full circle, and what went before paved the way to the present. This was the case for Jonathan, who found himself changing at such a rapid rate, he didn't know how to react.  
  
On this particular day, only a short time from Evy's due date, everything changed. The day started out the same as usual. First breakfast, then lunch, followed by Rick and Jonathan in the kitchen, cleaning up. Despite Rick's wishes, Evy continued to cook even in this last month of her pregnancy, but the men in her life insisted that they would clean up the kitchen. That always seemed to take hours, and was why Evy was alone in the library, when the attack hit. . . 


	2. Here we go again!

Part One  
  
She leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes and sighing deeply. Evy didn't like to admit it, but maybe Rick was right. She got tired so easily now, in these last few weeks of her pregnancy. And the little one didn't like a great deal of movement, either. Celia told her to expect that, though. Her friend tried to prepare her for almost everything, including the growing feeling that she was no longer attractive.  
  
Fortunately, that wasn't something Evy had to worry about overmuch, as Rick still couldn't keep his hands off her. Evy smiled and opened her eyes. She picked up the letter she was writing to Celia. . .even though she would be seeing her friend in the next few days. If nothing else, it helped to keep her focused and kept her sane with two overprotective mother hens named Rick and Jonathan driving her absolutely batty.  
  
She wrote, carefully balancing the paper, "I know you'll be here shortly, dear friend, but these letters focus my mind. I can do little else, but write and cook. Besides. I don't believe you mind getting them. I'm so glad things continue to improve for you. Not that I ever doubted it, of course, but nonetheless, it's good to hear. Rick was afraid I would laugh myself into an early labor, when I read about Anck's latest prank. That was the best one yet, I think."  
  
Evy paused, her sentence about Anck-su-namun forcing her to think about the changes in her friend's life. Anck was just one of those many changes. When she actually stopped to think about it, it staggered her. . .so she could only imagine how much of a struggle it was for Celia. In the space of a few months, she traveled to an exotic land, fell in love, found out that she was the reincarnation of a murdered concubine. That alone was a breathtaking series of events.  
  
But things didn't end there for Celia. Her daughter was kidnapped by another ancient enemy, and while rescuing Miranda, Celia faced the man who murdered her in her previous incarnation. As Rick put it, she kicked his ass. While Celia (and the murdered Ardath) kicked Khaldun's ass on one plane of existence, Evy watched her once and future brother, Ardeth, do the same on another plane of existence. Then they had to (again, in Rick's words) haul ass out of Hamunaptra, because once more, the walls were closing in and the ceiling was falling. Besides, they had to get Ardeth some desperately needed medical help.  
  
Celia's Egyptian adventure didn't end there. Ardeth decided that his life would be empty without her and asked Celia to marry him. Marry him she did, nearly two months after their first meeting in Cairo. Evy's smile died slowly. She missed them both so much. Ever since meeting Celia, Ardeth's dry sense of humor made an appearance more often. Much to her surprise, Evy even heard him laugh. Not the quiet chuckle which Jonathan mentioned to her, brought about by Jonathan and Izzy's antics on the dirigible, but a real laugh.  
  
Evy remembered the snappy comeback Ardeth made in response to Rick's repeated assertion that Ardeth and Celia should 'get a room.' As he had the first time Rick said it, Ardeth fired back that he and Celia did not require an audience and O'Connell was quite welcome to look the other way. In fact, it would be greatly appreciated. . . especially after all the times Ardeth was forced to do the same. Said as only Ardeth Bey could, complete with the chieftain gently inclining his head.  
  
"You do resemble Nefertiri, daughter of Seti. . .but you are not she," a voice said, startling Evy. She had an uncomfortable feeling of deja vu as she found herself facing six men, all dressed in white and blue robes. Each man had no eyebrows and no hair. . . their heads were shaved. Priests, but of whom? Evy pushed herself out of the chair, her hand resting protectively on her abdomen, and the speaker continued, "The Necklace of Isis does not belong to you. Return it immediately."  
  
Necklace of Isis? The necklace she found, belonging to Nefertiri's mother? She stammered, "I. . .I'm not sure I know what you're talking about!" Her eyes flickered from one man to another, and Evy desperately hoped Rick or Jonathan would come from the kitchen. The last time she was in this situation, it was ultimately Ardeth who came to her rescue. And *he* was on his honeymoon right now.  
  
"The necklace which you and your husband took from the Temple of Isis. . .the Necklace of Isis. We are the Guardians of the necklace, high priests of the goddess herself. Where is the necklace, woman, tell me now, before my patience runs out! My men and I have no wish to harm a woman who is with child. . ." the spokesman said, withdrawing his sword. The atmosphere in the room changed, in a way Evy couldn't define. It wasn't the hostility emanating from the six men in front of her. It was something else. Something. . .  
  
"Then don't," came a flat, female voice from behind the men. As one, all six turned to face the newcomer. A small, dark-haired young woman, dressed in the familiar black Med-jai robes. Evy's heart leaped, recognizing the newcomer. Then again, she recognized her from the moment she spoke. . . her American accent saw to that. The young woman glared at the six men, saying, "I am Celia Bey, wife of the Med-jai chieftain. . .and this woman is my friend."  
  
"Our quarrel is not with you, Med-jai queen. But if you do not leave now, then we will have no choice but to deal with you as well," the spokesman said. Evy raised her eyebrows. Did they just tell the woman whom they acknowledged as the Med-jai queen that they would kill her if she didn't leave? Ardeth would have a few things to say to that! A swish of cloth alerted her that someone was behind her, but the gentle hand on her shoulder told her that the most recent newcomer was a friend. Something she guessed, since you didn't often find a honeymooning couple apart in such a way.  
  
"And then I will have no choice but to deal with you. Celia," Ardeth Bey said from his position beside Evy. Celia approached, her dark head held high as she made her way through the men in blue and white robes. More than one priest had his hand on a sword. . .but under Ardeth's steely gaze, not one even attempted to draw that sword, much less hack Celia to pieces. Though, it was obvious that was exactly what they wanted to do.  
  
As Celia reached her husband's side, Evy whispered, "You have no idea how glad I am to see you." Celia took her hand and squeezed it gently, though she looked concerned. And there was the tiniest bit of disappointment in Ardeth's brown eyes, disappointment and resignation. He said not a word, making Evy feel worse about endangering the lives of her friends. Again.  
  
"Leave now," Ardeth told the men quietly, "there has been no bloodshed, and there is no reason why it cannot remain that way." He and Celia were effectively blocking the Guardians' path to her, and while Celia was much shorter than Ardeth, Evy watched her grow more skillful with the staff, her weapon of choice, before Evy's return to England.  
  
The spokesman uttered a single syllable, and Ardeth stiffened. With a hoarse cry, he allowed his cloak to drop to the ground in an eerily familiar gesture, then he launched himself forward as two Guardians obeyed their commander's demand. Celia shrugged out of her own cloak and reached behind her for the two components of her staff. Removing the two pieces from the brace on her back, she said quietly, "Evy, I need you to do me a favor."  
  
Evy backpedaled as Celia added, snapping the two pieces of her staff together with an ominous click, "Stay out of my way." Nothing more was said as two more Guardians rushed forward to engage Celia. Evy did exactly as her friend asked, noticing that there were two others who watched in silence, both Guardians. But that seemed unimportant when Ardeth killed one man, who just. . .disappeared. A second man attacked from behind.  
  
Evy barely managed to warn Ardeth with a scream. Ardeth lashed out with a kick to his other opponent's chest, driving him back into a table (that will leave a few marks, Evy found herself thinking), but as he turned to face the newcomer, the other man grazed Ardeth's palm with his dagger. That was the last time he would even touch Ardeth. The Med-jai drove his sword through the man's midsection, and he, too, disappeared.  
  
At the same time, the previous attacker got his breath back and launched himself at Ardeth. Celia backed up a little, still fighting the other two men, and whispered breathlessly to Evy, "My pocket. . .I have a revolver in there." Evy leaned forward, reaching into the pocket, and when she straightened up, she shot one of the men whom Celia was battling in the shoulder. He spun away, moaning in pain, and Celia was able to finish off the other man.  
  
Celia growled at the second man, "Get. . .up." The man just looked at her. . .then drove his own sword through his heart. Evy heard Celia gasp as he disappeared, and the Englishwoman looked at the leader. She winced a little as Celia asked, opening her arms as if inviting an attack, "Then it comes down to you. . .what is your pleasure, Guardian?"  
  
"I told you. . .my argument is not with you, Celia Bey," the leader replied. He once more withdrew his sword. . .and plunged it into his abdomen. He fell to his knees, smiling weakly up at her, and said, "None of this is your doing, Med-jai queen. I will not permit my blood to be on your hands." He fell back and died. Strangely enough, his body didn't disappear. However, as Ardeth finished off his own opponent, that man did.  
  
"Well," Evy breathed as the husband and wife looked at each other, "that was quite strange. Are you both all right?" Ardeth dipped his head in acknowledgment, giving his grazed palm an annoyed look, and Celia put her hand on her husband's shoulder, as if reassuring herself that he really was all right. He smiled at her, and Celia looked back at Evy, nodding. Almost as if she wanted to make sure her husband was all right before she said anything.  
  
Evy bit back a smile. . .which abruptly faded as Rick's voice boomed out, "What the hell is going on in here?" Ardeth and Celia turned as one to face him, and Evy moved out from behind the pair. It was her intention to reassure her husband that everything was fine before Rick put his foot into his mouth. . .which was entirely likely, especially given Ardeth and Celia's presence. Rick continued, staring at the body on the floor, "I heard a shot. . .what happened, and why is that guy lying in the middle of my floor?"  
  
. . .  
  
He was in the kitchen, doing dishes while Jonathan put out the trash when the shot rang out. Fortunately, Rick just put a plate down when the sound startled him. . .because he didn't even think. Just dropped the rag and headed for the library. Evy. Oh, god, if anything happened to Evy. . . He found Evy unhurt, standing behind Ardeth and Celia. But there was a dead body on the ground, attired in blue and white robes. He blurted out, "I heard a shot. . .what happened, and why is that guy lying in the middle of my floor?" Celia and Ardeth exchanged a look.  
  
Rick often criticized his brother-in-law for failing to think before he acted. Rick had a similar problem. . .he failed to think before he spoke. With that glance between the husband and wife, Rick's fury was ignited and he hissed, "What the hell have you done this time, Ardeth, and what were you thinking, bringing it to our front door? What, Imhotep and the Scorpion King weren't enough, now you have to try and get my wife killed while you're at it?"  
  
He regretted the words before he saw Ardeth's face go white and before Celia stepped closer to her husband protectively. But he regretted it all the more when the Med-jai queen broke down her staff into its components and snapped, "Well, golly gee, Mr. O'Connell. . .maybe if you and your family would keep your hands off things that didn't belong to you, we wouldn't need to interrupt our HONEYMOON to drag your sorry, ungrateful ass out of the fire!"  
  
That was nothing compared to the regret. . .the remorse. . .he felt when Ardeth added in an icy voice, "Then you shall have no trouble defending your pregnant wife and unborn child alone from the next wave of Guardians which comes. . .and come they will, O'Connell. We must go, Celia." With those words, he picked up his cloak and spun on his heel, his wife right behind him, scooping up her own cloak at the same time.  
  
Rick's brain struggled to catch up. It was only after he saw them heading for the door that he realized what happened. And even then, he could only stare in shock as Evy ran awkwardly to intercept them. The couple stopped as Rick's wife blocked their path, crying, "No, Ardeth, please don't go! At least stay tonight. I know you're exhausted. The least I can do is offer a comfortable bed, a hot bath, and nourishment." Rick tried to find his voice, tried to call back his unbelievably stupid words. . .but nothing came out.  
  
That was a very bad sign, in and of itself. Rick O'Connell always had a quip for a tense situation, a smart remark to annoy whoever he happened to be fighting at the time. The only time he never really had a smart remark was the first time he fought Ardeth Bey. That was important for some reason, and Rick couldn't be sure why. But that wasn't important. Right now, the important thing was making things right.  
  
That was, of course, assuming he even had the chance to make things right with Ardeth. This was different from all the other times before, when he lashed out at Ardeth, and Rick felt cold inside. The newlyweds looked at each other, then Celia said, placing a gentle hand on her husband's shoulder, "She's right, Ardeth. . .you are exhausted, and we weren't planning on being in Scotland immediately. I told Mrs Cameron that we wouldn't be up there until sometime next week, remember?"  
  
Ardeth's shoulders, which were tense with rage and hurt, slumped and he nodded. It occurred to Rick that Ardeth reached his limit, in more ways than one. He looked worse than he did after the bus ride from hell. And it seemed pretty clear that his Med-jai friend didn't have the energy to out-talk two determined women. Rick could understand that. He met Ardeth's womenfolk, after all. They defined the word 'determined.'  
  
Very gently, as if fearing that she would startle him, Evy said, "Come. . .I'll take you upstairs. I know how exhausted you both must be. Maybe you'd like a hot bath, too?" She took Ardeth's hand and led him upstairs. But Celia didn't go. . .at least, not right away. Instead, she affixed her cloak about her shoulders once more and came back toward Rick. The American knew that while Ardeth let him off relatively easily (compared to what he could have done), Celia wouldn't be quite as kind.  
  
He was right. She spat, her eyes ablaze with fury and frustration, "You know, Mr. O'Connell, I feel sorry for you. . .you have such a small heart, you can only fit two people in it." Rick glared back at her, but before he could speak, Celia continued, "Let me see if I have this straight. You're allowed to do whatever it takes to protect your family, but no one else is allowed to do the same? And when someone tries to help you, you either lash out or take them for granted. Do I have the right of it?"  
  
"You don't have a lot of patience, do you? I made a mistake. . .I let my mouth work before my brain did," Rick fired back. He was rewarded with a nasty smile from Celia, reminding him that she wasn't Ardeth. She wouldn't take what he dished out in the name of history. Further, this was the same woman who threatened Imhotep with something worse than the hom- dai, if he didn't help to save Ardeth's life. . .or at least, buy him time.  
  
He was reminded of this as Celia fired back, "You know, you're absolutely right. For a self-centered jackass like you, I have no patience. I save it for my daughter and people who deserve it." She glared at him bitterly for several moments, and Rick thought about speaking, then remembered that he got himself into this mess by shooting his mouth off. This wasn't like Hamunaptra the last time, when Khaldun took over his body to drive a wedge between Rick and the others. An attempt which admittedly failed, especially after that pile of manure stabbed Ardeth.  
  
Nope, Rick did this all himself. . .and he had to undo it. The trouble was, he didn't know how. He hurt Ardeth before. Many times, both physically and. . .and verbally. He often lashed out at his friend, always because of something beyond the chieftain's control, and it was only a question of time before he went too far. That was never an issue. The only question was when it would happen. He had the answer to that question, and there were no more questions.  
  
There wasn't even a question about what happened next. Consequences for his thoughtlessness? That would be a five foot two inch, scowling newlywed who just called him a 'self-centered jackass.' Not that Rick was arguing. . .with her description of him as a self-centered jackass, or with her assertion that she had patience for her daughter, just not for Rick. He *knew* that. He just didn't know what to say or how to make things right. In a quiet voice, he said, "I'm sorry, Celia. I just lost my head."  
  
A dark brow arched, an expression he recognized. It meant that he was stating the obvious, and he was wasting her time. Two things which really annoyed her, especially when someone she loved needed her. Rick continued, growing defensive, "Look, I don't know what to say, okay? So I'm overprotective of my wife. . .like you have any room to talk? You're just as protective of Ardeth as I am of Evy!" Celia folded her arms over her chest, this time giving him a Look which Rick swore she learned from Ardeth.  
  
"I am," she acknowledged in a deceptively calm voice, "but there's a big difference between you and me, O'Connell. I don't lash out at people who are trying to help me, unless I've been drugged into oblivion, rolled into a rug and thrown over the back of a camel!" Rick remembered the incident in question, and he knew that if her hands were free, she would have come up swinging when Ardeth pulled her from the rug.  
  
Rick looked away, and Celia gave a snort of disgust. She said, "Just remember, O'Connell. My husband and I interrupted our honeymoon. . .a time when we're supposed to be making love for hours on end. . .to drag your sorry, ungrateful ass out of trouble. Again. I don't know what Ardeth's gonna do. . .but I know what I'll say if he asks my opinion. You're on your own, O'Connell." She started to walk away, then came back, her hands resting on her hips as she added, "Oh, and one other thing, Mr. O'Connell. I swear, if you *ever* hurt my husband again, I *will* kill you!  
  
With that final message delivered, she spun away, her cloak flowing out behind her dramatically. Rick watched her go, feeling curiously detached. He couldn't accept that. Not after everything he and Ardeth went through. Yeah, he knew he had a tendency to be an ass to Ardeth, but the Med-jai understood, didn't he? After all, Rick helped to defeat Imhotep again, he killed the Scorpion King. Actions were more important than words. . .weren't they?  
  
. . .  
  
Contrary to popular belief, Celia Ferguson Bey was *not* an unreasonable woman. In these early months of her marriage, she developed only a few rules. Don't mess with her husband, don't mess with her brother, and don't mess with her child. Aside from that, she was not hard to get along with. However, when those rules were violated, she could get very. . .nasty. She preferred not to get nasty. She preferred getting along with people.  
  
Getting nasty required a lot of energy, which was why she was now wearily trudging upstairs after her husband and Evy. Celia sensed Anck's ghost at her side, quietly lending her support. She smiled wearily and thought, *I am all right, Anck, merely tired. I just wish that oaf would stop and think before he puts his foot in his mouth all the way up to his hip.* Anck's mind touched her own, offering energy to replenish Celia's own, and the young queen sighed.  
  
*I know you are, my friend, but I worry for you both. Neither you nor Ardeth deserve such disrespect. If I were not still recovering my energy from that last prank, I would teach O'Connell a lesson in manners he would never forget,* Anck replied, and Celia grinned faintly. Yes, she could well imagine. There was an incident on the ship from Egypt to England, involving a pair of snobs, two brothers who didn't like the obvious affection between Ardeth and Celia.  
  
In fact, one man demanded that Ardeth take his dirty hands off a white woman. At the same time, his brother informed Celia in a very condescending voice that it was not wise to allow inferiors such familiarity. He was lucky Celia controlled herself, or he would have ended up without a few teeth. As it was, the young American stopped him by answering, "My husband is inferior to me in no way. He is the finest man I know. Further, I would greatly appreciate it if you would mind your own business!"  
  
Things threatened to get really ugly. . .however, the ship's captain intervened. He was an Egyptian national, who was familiar with the Med- jai. The captain told the snooty siblings that the gentleman (Ardeth) was royalty, and they just insulted a prince and his new bride. The intervention gave Ardeth time to spirit Celia away. Not a moment too soon, either. Only a few moments later, when they were on the other side of the ship, a yelp and a shout caught everyone's attention.  
  
Infuriated, Anck tossed the pair overboard, waiting until there was no one else around. That piece of consideration made Celia very grateful. She. . .or rather, Lady Ardath. . .could remember when Anck wouldn't have thought about others being caught in the crossfire. However, people did change. She said very softly, "Take your time, Anck, I don't want you getting tired."  
  
*You just do not wish me to watch you. . .comfort Ardeth,* came the mischievous reply. Celia just responded with a look which answered, 'yes, and your point is?' Anck merely laughed aloud in the corners of Celia's mind, then continued, *Fear not, my friend. I shall leave you to take good care of your husband. Although, you may wish to hurry, before Nefertiri's reincarnation decides to apologize in her own way.*  
  
Celia glared at the ghost, fighting back a grin. Anck knew quite well that Evy's love for Ardeth was of the sisterly variety. There was nothing seductive in her attitude toward the Med-jai chieftain. Besides, even if she did have such feelings toward Ardeth, she knew she had to go through Celia first. Neither woman wanted that, for obvious reasons. The American said in an undertone, "Behave, you, or I'll *make* you watch while I comfort Ardeth!"  
  
*Now that IS a disturbing thought,* Anck retorted as they reached the top of the stairs. Celia didn't answer. Instead, her eyes were on her husband. Though married for only four months, Celia already recognized certain mannerisms. Right now, Ardeth was beyond tired, beyond hungry, and beyond patience. Anck picked up on it also, asking, *Would he feel better if he could yell at O'Connell? I can make a suggestion to O'Connell to do something stupid.*  
  
"Uh. . .no. Don't do me any favors in that way, Anck. I think the last thing Ardeth needs right now is O'Connell opening his big mouth again," Celia replied. If she was right, and she thought she was, Ardeth would barely have the energy to get into the tub, much less do any thing else. More's the pity. She smiled at Anck, adding, "But thank you for thinking of him. You don't know how much I appreciate your help."  
  
Anck looked away, abashed. A little ahead of them, Evy was leading Ardeth into the bedroom he would share with Celia. Her arm was around his waist in an almost protective gesture, and Anck said softly, *He is a proud man, your husband, and I believe she allows him to think that he is supporting her, when it is truly the other way around. I wonder if things would have been different, if I was not so proud in my successive lives, so determined to awaken Imhotep from his cursed sleep. Do you ever wonder, Celia? That it was the reincarnation of Nefertiri who awoke Imhotep the first time?*  
  
Celia did, indeed, though she tried not to. Life was full of what might have been, and what could be. What if she never worked up the courage to come to Egypt, what if she did any number of things differently? She didn't like to think about the possibilities, how one small change could redirect the outcome of a person's fate. What if Lady Ardath never drank that poisoned wine? What would have happened to Rameses, to Anck-su- namun, to Imhotep? What would have happened to Seti and Nefertiri? Sennefer? Nassor? What would have happened to that first Ardeth Bey?  
  
A thousand different possibilities. One decision by one person could affect the lives of thousands, as was the case with Imhotep and Anck-su- namun, when they killed Seti. She finally answered, "I try not to think about it, Anck. It gives me a headache. The what might have beens. What would have happened if Andreas Bey hadn't died when Ardeth was seventeen? We already know, because Garai was gifted with that dream. Or cursed. There are too many what might have beens."  
  
*Tiyu. I know. But I still find myself wondering what would have happened, if Ardath was not murdered when we were twenty. Would I have become the same person? What would have happened if Imhotep arose a generation earlier. . .what would have happened to you, to Ardeth, to the others? I want to believe that when Imhotep resurrected me, I would have found a way to protect you,* Anck replied.  
  
Celia smiled at the ghost once more, answering, "I have faith in you, Anck. You would have found a way." Anck dipped her head almost shyly, and Celia started to add something else. But it was then that an image flashed through her mind, of a young girl. She looked, quite curiously, like both Anck and Ardeth. She had his curly black hair and warm brown eyes, and Anck's features. She was a beautiful child, perhaps thirteen years old, and Celia whispered, "Senephra." Anck stared at her in shock. Celia continued, "That was the name of someone important to you, wasn't it? Senephra?"  
  
*It is the name I would have chosen for my daughter,* Anck answered numbly, and Celia raised her eyebrows. That. . .was a surprise. But it made sense. In a twisted sort of way, though her memories of Lady Ardath told her that Anck-su-namun had little use for children, aside from her nephew. She didn't hate them, but she wasn't particularly interested in being a mother, either. Celia shook herself as Anck added, *Look, Evelyn has Ardeth in the room.*  
  
They were at the landing and Evy exited from the bathroom. The bathroom and bedroom were adjoining, with separate exits. She smiled at Celia and led her to the left, murmuring, "Ardeth's in the bedroom. I've got the adjoining door open, all you need to do is start running the bath once you get him calmed down." She paused, then added in an even softer voice, "Take care of him? I know Rick hurt him just now. . .and I didn't take your answer personally."  
  
Celia nodded and Evy went on, "Dinner is in two hours. I think Ardeth would be more comfortable if I brought it up to your room. Or rather, if Jonathan brought it up. The men won't let me do anything." She rolled her eyes, and Celia stifled a laugh, knowing that she would be in a similar situation when she became pregnant. She slipped inside, to find Ardeth pacing, his black robes billowing behind him in obvious agitation.  
  
Celia watched in silence, allowing some of the excess energy to drain from her husband with his pacing. When he paused, Celia wrapped her arms around his waist and whispered, "I love you." With a groan, Ardeth returned the embrace, burying his face in her hair. He murmured something in Arabic. Not understanding what he said, she just tightened her arms around him, feeling the tremors race through his body. O'Connell really did it this time. That arrogant ass. How *dare* he accuse Ardeth of intentionally placing Evy and the baby in danger?  
  
At last, Ardeth whispered, "I wonder how I managed without you, my Celia. I will not apologize to O'Connell, though I have apologized to Evelyn." Celia almost snorted, but checked herself. If one was very twisted, perhaps that person would expect Ardeth to apologize, but Celia wasn't that twisted. Everyone had a limit, and Ardeth just reached his. So, she remained silent and held him. In the end, nothing could be said that would make any difference.  
  
. . .  
  
Anck remained close, though she was rattled by the mention of the daughter who never was. She forced herself to focus on protecting her friends. She knew Celia sensed her presence, but she also knew that Celia didn't really mind. She wasn't even trying to hide her feelings, and that was what kept Anck close by. Rage and hurt emanated from Celia. She was hurting because her adored husband was in pain, and she could not take his pain away.  
  
Anck could feel the humming of energy in Celia's muscles as she held Ardeth. She could feel Celia's heart beat, and how difficult it was for her to breathe, between the fierce embrace of her husband and Celia's own fury. And it was all Anck could do to keep from returning to O'Connell and doing *something* to hurt him. Something, anything, it didn't really matter to her. He hurt Ardeth, thus causing Celia distress at the same time, and Anck wanted to return the favor.  
  
But she would not do anything this time. She would allow Evelyn to deal with her husband, while Celia took care of her own. During the last four months, it seemed as if Celia's attempts to take care of Ardeth were derailed by one crisis or another. Only three days after the wedding, Ardeth was called away to one of the other tribes. He was unable to take Celia with him, so she turned her attention to other things, like repairing her relationship with her brother.  
  
Contrary to what Jason swore in the weeks leading up to the wedding, he was still in Egypt. It was as if his work wasn't yet completed, and until things were better with his sister, Jason *couldn't* leave. So, he spent several hours a day with her and Miranda, the latter of whom often hid behind her mother when he was around. That hurt, Anck knew, but the ghost could hardly blame her niece.  
  
When Celia wasn't repairing her relationship with Jason, she was either learning Arabic or teaching Imhotep the ways of this new time. That wasn't just the ways of behavior and manners in this time, but she was teaching him English as well. Imhotep already learned to speak English in assimiliating first the Americans, then Hafez's underlings. But Celia polished his command of the language, and explained the inconsistencies. And there were many of those, so many, they made Anck's head hurt.  
  
They learned about Med-jai culture together. . .many things changed in three thousand years. Anck saw Imhotep's struggle to reconcile the monsters who condemned him to the hom-dai with the Med-jai of today. More than that, he struggled to accept the truth that Khaldun played a part in his condemnation. He spent three thousand years hating the Med-jai for what they did to him. But now, he was starting to see that they were no more evil than he was.  
  
It was as Celia said one day. Their actions were evil, but the people were not. They were angry and proud, vengeful and driven by guilt, always a bad combination. Yes, Imhotep should have been punished, but they went too far. The modern Med-jai admitted that. The First Elder acknowledged that in public during the wedding, just as Ardeth acknowledged it in his heart many times as an adult.  
  
Anck's attention was drawn back to her friends. Ardeth's forehead rested lightly on Celia's, her hand moving soothingly down his back, and he finally whispered in a weary voice that broke Anck's heart, "Why does he assume the worst of me, my wife? How could he think I would deliberately place Evelyn in danger, have I betrayed him in some way?" Anck swallowed hard, tears smarting her eyes.  
  
It wasn't just the obvious hurt. . .but Ardeth never asked this question before. It was a measure of how much he changed since Celia came into his life that he started questioning what always was. Before, he simply accepted it as the way things were, because from O'Connell, he knew nothing else. It was just the way O'Connell was. Because he had no reason to trust Ardeth. . . because it was just the way things were.  
  
The trouble was, Ardeth proved himself a thousand times. There was never a time when Rick O'Connell needed him, and Ardeth let him down. But that wasn't good enough for O'Connell, it seemed. There was another, aside from Celia and Evelyn, who was angered by Rick O'Connell and his continuing expectation that Ardeth would betray him. With a single, troubled look at Celia, who simply held her husband without trying to explain something which could not be explained, Anck phased out, before reappearing in a Place In-Between. But it was not Mathayus she found there, much to her surprise.  
  
It was a very familiar, and very beloved, figure. Ardath stood before the pool where Anck stood so many times. Her mouth was set in grim lines, which relaxed as she looked up at Anck. She smiled and said in their language, *I find it is more difficult than I thought to let go, my forever friend. Rameses is the same. Our child still needs us.* Anck nodded, slipping to her best friend's side. She put her arm around Ardath's waist, looking into the pool, and her friend continued bitterly, *I believe it is time to teach Rick O'Connell a lesson he will never forget.*  
  
Anck looked at her sister closely, recognizing her tone. Ardeth was not only her namesake, but her descendent. He carried her son's name, he looked like the man whom her son became, and Anck knew that Ardath regarded her namesake as her child. But there was more. Ardath lifted her chin, staring at Anck, and added, *I'll not have my daughter's reincarnation raised by such a petulant child!*  
  
Daughter's reincarnation? It took a few moments for Anck's brain to catch up, then she felt her jaw become unhinged. She finally managed to say, *You mean. . .?* It was hardly the most articulate thing she could have said under the circumstances, but this was something very unexpected. Finally, she asked, *So, that is why you are here, In-Between, and not in the Afterlife?*  
  
*Tiyu. The child in the womb of Nefertiri reincarnated is the reincarnation of my daughter. The child originally destined for Nefertiri and Terumun. . .well, there was a change. Miriam offered to go in her place. She wished to draw the families even closer together. Rameses agreed, since time passes much differently here. He knows she will be returning in a very short time, eternally speaking,* Ardath acknowledged.  
  
Anck murmured, *And that is why you are so determined to teach O'Connell a lesson. Not just because he makes a habit to lash out at your descendent and namesake, but because he will be raising the reincarnation of your daughter. You wish to make sure he will do a proper job of it.* Ardath bobbed her head once, very firmly, and Anck continued, *What will you do?* Almost immediately, she was sorry she asked, for a devilish smile appeared on her sister's face.  
  
*Do you remember, Anck, the conversation you had just a few minutes ago with my spirit-twin? About what might have been?* Ardath asked, her hazel eyes dancing with mischief. Anck nodded warily, knowing that look all too well. Ardath smiled very sweetly as she added, *I believe I will show Rick O'Connell a few what might have beens, so he may see exactly where he and his family would be without my child!*  
  
Anck remembered the conversation in question entirely too well. . .and she remembered Celia mentioning the dream Garai (once called Sennefer) had. The one about the fate of the Med-jai, if Andreas Bey led during the risings. She looked at Ardath questioningly, and her friend nodded with a determined expression. Anck knew her sister, and knew better than to even try to talk her friend out of what she planned. Besides. She was rather looking forward to Ardath putting Rick O'Connell in his place.  
  
Aside from today, he behaved with honor during most of the time she lived among the Med-jai, if you ignored the occasions before the wedding. The first occasion, of course, was when he told Celia that her husband was a virgin. Celia already knew that, but that was hardly the point. The second occasion was when he got Ardeth drunk. Which was why she asked now, *Is there anything you need me to do, aside from help Celia as much as possible?* Ardath bit down hard on her lower lip, furrowing her brow in concentration as she thought about that.  
  
From that expression, Anck knew that her friend began making these plans quite some time ago. And truly, this was something Anck should have realized long before now. Ardath, like her namesake (both of them), was a great planner. She would have had the idea long ago, perhaps before Celia and Ardeth were even engaged, much less married. She just required O'Connell to cross a certain line, and that line was crossed tonight. At last, Ardath shook her head, replying, *I do not believe so, my sister. However, while I am reminding Rick O'Connell of just how lucky he is to have my child in his life, I will remind him of something else.*  
  
Anck raised her eyebrows questioningly. She couldn't wait to hear this. Ardath smiled smugly, adding, *To use his American vernacular, it is time he realized that I can be a nasty-ass bitch!* Anck threw back her head and laughed, tightening her arm about her friend's waist. She was looking forward to what her forever friend had planned for Rick O'Connell. However, what both friends forgot, as mortals often do, was that the gods often had their own sense of justice and fairness. Just as they did in this case, and plans of another sort was set into motion.  
  
. . .  
  
Ardeth Bey had a *very* difficult day. He never truly enjoyed leaving Egypt, but he hoped this time would be different. This time, he was traveling to England and Scotland for his honeymoon, thirty-six days with his beloved new wife. And truly, the expression in her eyes when he told her that if she wished to go to Britain, then it was to Britain that they would go. . .yes, the joy in her eyes soothed most of his troubles away.  
  
He knew, just as well as Celia did, that Anck-su-namun was responsible for the snobbish brothers going overboard. Those two were mild, really, compared to things that happened in his native Egypt among Westerners. But it angered his new wife, and Ardeth knew by now that things which angered Celia would not be tolerated by Anck-su-namun. Ardeth believed that the ghost was seeking an atonement of her own.  
  
Both Anck-su-namun and Imhotep were seeking redemption, something which made Ardeth dizzy. If someone would have told him such a thing after the battle at Ahm Shere, Ardeth would have never believed them. During Imhotep's first rising, the chieftain was driven by hatred and grief and guilt, for the loss of his uncle. He was twenty-six years old, and though considered wise for his age even then, still had much to learn about life and love.  
  
The next seven years gave him the wisdom to see his ancestors went too far when they cursed Imhotep. And slowly, Ardeth found cracks of sympathy in his heart. Those cracks were abruptly filled when the cycle started once more, for this time, Imhotep did not seek to bring Anck-su- namun back from the dead. . .rather, he sought to destroy everything Ardeth loved. If the Scorpion King was raised, then was killed, by Imhotep, this planet would become Hell. Ardeth could not allow that to happen. And once more, he fought alongside the O'Connells.  
  
Imhotep died in Ahm Shere, in the Golden Pyramid. He threw himself into the Underworld when Meela Nais, the reincarnation of Anck-su-namun, abandoned him. Ahm Shere, his new resting place, was sucked into the desert, but Ardeth knew the curse was not ended. He lost many men at Ahm Shere, and even now, almost a year later, the nightmares still haunted him. They were not as prevalent, but they did remain.  
  
Then he met Celia Ferguson. Her appearance in his life brought forth his memories of his past lives. When he fell in love with Celia, Ardeth at last understood what drove Imhotep. Perhaps that was what made this last rising different. And, perhaps it was because this time, Imhotep did not wish to return. He didn't know. As the hot water relaxed his tense muscles, Ardeth knew only that Imhotep changed sides. He fulfilled his agreement with Lady Ardath. For that, the hom-dai was broken, releasing both Imhotep and the Med-jai from their curse.  
  
That brought Ardeth to now. It would take time before he could trust Imhotep. The fear was ingrained in him too deeply. But right now, he felt that he trusted Imhotep more than O'Connell trusted him. That hurt. With everything they went through together, with the battles fought and won, all the times they stood at each other's sides and faced evil. . .O'Connell still believed that Ardeth would deliberately harm Evelyn?  
  
Enough. He could do this no more. He no longer had the energy to allay the fears of his Western brother. Ardeth wondered if the problem lay in him, or in O'Connell. Was he blinded by the similarities between Andreas and O'Connell? Perhaps. Ardeth sighed, leaning back in the tub. If so, it was over. His only contact with the O'Connells from this day would be with Evelyn, for Ardeth was unwilling to give up his little sister.  
  
Even so. Ardeth missed his brother, but it was time to let go. Others needed him. Like Celia. Ardeth smiled wearily, thinking of his bride. She held him for what seemed like an eternity, before gently suggesting a hot bath. They traveled through the sand and dust of Egypt, across the sea, and he was filthy. They both were, but Celia would get her bath later. Ardeth admitted that a hot bath was appealing, as was food. And sleep. Ardeth was sure he could sleep for a week.  
  
While the nightmares remained, they decreased. . .most nights when he was in the encampment, his sleep was dreamless. That was the case the morning after his wedding. He awakened, to find his new wife smiling down at him. Once, he would have denied that. . .he could afford no such weakness. But Ardeth the man was finding a way to coexist with Ardeth the chieftain and Ardeth the warrior.  
  
And, he thanked all of the deities who protected his tribe and family that Celia was as good as her word, disagreeing with him only in private. And they did disagree, especially once Celia was convinced that Ardeth would love her regardless of what she did. So strange, that she was just as insecure about his love as he was of hers.  
  
These disagreements began a few days after their wedding, when Celia mentioned Imhotep's request to teach him English and the ways of this new time. Ardeth's immediate and flat-out response was, "La! Never!" They were at the corral with the new horses provided by O'Connell. Celia stared at him, her shoulders stiffening. But instead of arguing, she merely inclined her head and walked away.  
  
Ardeth followed her, and once they reached the safety of their tent, Celia lit into him. He never saw her so angry before, not at him. She angrily reminded him that she did him the courtesy of telling him about the request, before saying yes or no, and she would like to be accorded the same courtesy by at least talking about it before giving her answer. It was then that Ardeth received a second reminder about his new wife.  
  
Celia never started an argument she couldn't win. She came up with all the reasons why Ardeth would say no, then created convincing arguments to counter his. It frightened him a little, that she read him so well. And it also frightened him that he agreed to her proposal, which was a compromise. She would teach Imhotep, but never alone. She didn't trust him, either. There would be at least one Med-jai warrior with her at all times, and Ardeth assigned Garai to that detail.  
  
There was one thing which neither Ardeth nor Celia anticipated, and that was Celia's influence on Imhotep. While he knew them to be the reincarnations of Rameses and Ardath, Imhotep had far more respect for Celia than he had for Ardeth's ancestress and namesake. There was absolutely no mockery in his voice when he called her 'little queen.' Indeed, strangely enough, Imhotep almost seemed protective of her at times.  
  
And again, the train of thought brought him back to O'Connell. Imhotep scowled when he heard where they were going for their honeymoon. He outright acknowledged to Garai that he had more respect for Ardeth than he did for the American Med-jai. Perhaps when they returned, Ardeth would ask him about that. . .ask him why he felt as he did. Was it possible that Imhotep saw something which Ardeth had not? The young chieftain whispered bitterly, "Damn you, O'Connell. Damn you for ever thinking that I would harm Evelyn or the child!"  
  
The door opened and Celia said softly, "Yes, my love, but I have an idea that will drive all thoughts of that ungrateful ass out of your mind." Ardeth looked at his wife, who was attired only in a robe borrowed from Evelyn. She smiled and said, "I've been informed that dinner will be in about an hour, and Jonathan will bring our tray up. And then, my darling husband, we will rest."  
  
Though he had a good idea of what she was up to, Ardeth inquired, "You plan to make me forget, do you, my wife? How, exactly, do you plan to do that?" Celia closed the door behind her, a wicked smile on her face. Ardeth scratched absently at the graze on his palm. . .he would bandage that later. . .and felt his insides go weak at the smile now decorating his wife's lovely face. Oh yes, he knew exactly what she was up to. . .  
  
That was proven a moment later when she allowed the robe to drop, revealing her nude body, and she said huskily, "Oh, I'm sure we'll figure out something." Ardeth held out his uninjured hand to her. Celia took it and stepped into the tub, kneeling in the water in front of him, before covering his body with her own. As her lips touched his, everything was driven out of his mind. . .O'Connell, Imhotep, even his wounded palm. There was room only for Celia and the sensations she unleashed in his body. 


	3. Unexpected Consequences

Sailor Elf: Trust me. Just trust me.  
  
Sangelleigh: Ohh, someone will physically kick Rick's butt. Not Celia, but someone infinitely more powerful and infinitely more ticked off. Celia's first priority is her husband, as you'll see in the successive chapters.  
  
Deana: Would you like to slap Rick's wrist? Or something? (get your mind out of the gutter, Deana!)  
  
Part Two  
  
While Celia Bey was taking care of her husband in the bathroom which adjoined their bedroom, Evelyn O'Connell was lambasting her own husband for his stupidity. Never, in the years of their marriage, did he say something so. . . so. . .so idiotic! There were many times when he angered her, and when she angered him, but this was the limit! This was worse than when Khaldun took him over, just outside Hamunaptra.  
  
Evy finally ran out of words to express just how disappointed she was in her husband. Rick, much to her surprise, was silent through her tirade. He said softly, "I know, Evy, I was a jerk. Celia already read me the riot act." This was very unlike her husband, and Evy frowned, ignoring the way her daughter stirred in her womb. She knew she shouldn't get so upset at this point in her pregnancy.  
  
But Rick went too far. Evy asked, "What will it take before you finally accept Ardeth can be trusted? That's exactly what you act like, as if you're afraid Ardeth will turn on us suddenly." Rick started to speak, but Evy wasn't finished. She went on, "Everything we've all been through, it means nothing to you? Ardeth saved my life so many times, and yes, I've returned the favor. But he's my brother, Rick. Just as much as Jonathan is, and I feel like you want me to choose between my families. I can't do that!"  
  
"I would never ask you to do that! I just. . .I wasn't thinking, Evy. All I could think of was you and the baby, and the possibility of losing you both. I know. . .I *know* that Ardeth would never do anything to hurt you or the baby. It's just that every time something bad happens to us, he's right in the middle of it!" Rick replied. Evy rubbed her fingers over her now-aching temples. They were back to this, then.  
  
"He's only in the middle of it, Rick, because we put him there," she replied quietly. Evy remembered Rick asking her not to join this particular expedition, and she knew Ardeth was involved in that somehow. She would have agreed, if not for the persistent dreams about that temple of Isis, and the necklace that was worn by Nefertiri. Like Thebes before it, it reached the point where she could think of nothing else.  
  
Evy looked up at her husband, repeating, "We put him in the middle. Me, with my constant desire to see things, to know things, to find things, whether they should be found or not. This time, we were lucky. . .no one we loved died or was kidnapped. We can't keep doing this, Rick. I can't keep putting Ardeth's life. . .and sanity. . .at risk, and you can't keep telling me 'all right.' Because next time, it may not be Alex or me who pays the price. I don't think I could live with myself if I cost Ardeth or Celia their lives."  
  
Nearly a year earlier, Rick told her that she and Alex were the only things that mattered to him. They both remembered that conversation very well, because it was the night their world exploded. The night first she, then Alex, was kidnapped. The night Ardeth almost died, and the night she realized just how much he meant to her. The rage which filled her soul when she saw the Mummy Warrior preparing to kill him. . .  
  
"You really do love him," Rick said softly. Evy nodded. Yes. She did. In spite of the bad start, or maybe because of it, it took very little time for the reincarnations of Rameses and Nefertiri to work their way back to their sibling relationship in lifetimes gone by. The beginning was the day Hamunaptra sank below the sands once more, but with each encounter, her affection for the quiet, serious young chieftain grew.  
  
"Yes. I do. He's my brother, Rick. Not just Rameses and Nefertiri, but so many other lifetimes since then. He hasn't always been a Med-jai, but he always has been a protector. Just as you have been. You can't do this any more. You can't blame him for bringing trouble to our door, because we do it to ourselves. Have you ever once thought about the risk he took in coming to London to help us?" Evy asked.  
  
She often did, especially after she learned he stowed away in the trunks of one of the cars which carried Lock-nah, Meela, and the others. He hid in plain sight, not once but twice. They never even suspected that Ardeth was undercover among their workers. Thank God. Because if they found him, Meela would have tortured him, and enjoyed it. Evy said aloud, "This family would not exist without him, Rick."  
  
She shuddered, thinking about how different things would have been without Ardeth. How many times did Ardeth turn the tide of the battle? *What would I do without you?* she asked Rick after their escape, but the same was true of Ardeth. There was silence in the room, as she and her husband stared at each other. Jonathan emerged from the kitchen with a full tray.  
  
He didn't even look at Rick as he told Evy, "I'm taking this upstairs. I'll be back if you need me." Evy nodded, touching her brother's shoulder as he passed her. And still, he said nothing to Rick. At least, not until he reached the stairs. Then he turned and said, "You know, Evy, you're right. This family wouldn't exist with Ardeth. And I plan on telling him that."  
  
He moved silently and swiftly up the stairs. Rick sighed and said, "I'll apologize to him, after both he and Celia have a chance to calm down. I know I hurt him, honey. I know that." Evy nodded. Yes, they both knew that. The question then became, what would they do about it? What would Rick do about it? Ardeth and Celia were leaving in the morning after all, and Evy doubted if her husband would find the apology in his heart in time.  
  
. . .  
  
Jonathan Carnahan didn't ususally listen at keyholes, but the gunshot he heard inside the house didn't leave him with much opportunity to do anything else. He dropped the garbage and ran inside, right behind Rick. He heard his brother-in-law lash out at their Med-jai friend, blaming him for the attack against Evy. He heard Ardeth finally push back, and he heard the entire argument between Celia and Rick.  
  
Now, two hours after that ugly confrontation, Jonathan carried some sustenance upstairs to his two friends. He went back outside, after Celia went upstairs. He was afraid he would tear Rick into little tiny pieces if he didn't leave the house. And he couldn't approach Celia or Ardeth right now. Celia was in 'protector attack' mode, as Jonathan once heard it called. . .she would attack anyone connected with Rick right now. The Englishman thought the only thing that prevented her from going after Evy was his little sister's pregnancy.  
  
However, she had two hours to calm down. Jonathan kicked at the door lightly, hearing a soft, 'come in.' He rolled his eyes and put the tray down, before opening the door. Propping the door open with his foot, then his arse, Jonathan picked the tray up and carried it into the room. Ardeth was sound asleep, Celia locked in his arms. They both wore bathrobes. Celia gave Jonathan a faint smile and murmured, "We had a long journey, and have another one tomorrow. It's a good thing I didn't buy our tickets ahead of time. We would have been in trouble."  
  
Jonathan didn't know what to say to that, and so he kept silent. There was a time, not so long ago, when he would have blustered his way through a smart remark, but that desire was quenched ruthlessly. Instead, he looked at Ardeth once more. His black hair covered his face, and only the soft breathing assured Jonathan that his friend was still alive. He asked very softly, "Is he all right? Physically, I mean?"  
  
Celia reached up to gently stroke Ardeth's hair, drawing a soft murmur, then Celia answered, "He's very tired, and probably will be very hungry when he wakes up. I promised him that I would wake him when dinner came, but I don't see the harm in letting him sleep a few more minutes, do you?" Jonathan shook his head, and Celia continued, "His palm was grazed by the dagger of one of the Guardians, but we bound that after we finished our bath."  
  
"Ohhh, not you too!" Jonathan mock-whined in response, and was rewarded with a mischievous grin. Both smiles faded, however, when Ardeth moaned softly in his sleep, mumbling in Arabic. Celia looked concerned, but Jonathan, who could understand what Ardeth just said, was struggling to keep from blushing. All right, he *really* didn't need that image in his head! And when he had a chance, he'd make Ardeth pay for that!  
  
"Ardeth? Wake up, sweetheart, it's just a dream," Celia whispered, all her concentration on her husband. She totally missed the chagrined expression on Jonathan's face, for which he was very grateful. The young bride tenderly kissed Ardeth's forehead, her lips brushing the tattoo there. Ardeth sighed, then his eyes began to flutter open. Celia smiled in relief and said, "Rise and shine, darlin,' dinner's ready."  
  
"Yes, well, I'll leave you two lovebirds alone," Jonathan muttered as Ardeth shifted. He averted his eyes, for the motion nudged open Celia's robe. . .another image he really didn't need in his head. Ardeth sat up with a groan and Jonathan looked back at his friend anxiously, forgetting his own embarrassment as he asked, "I say, old chap, are you all right?" Now that he thought about it, Ardeth did look awfully pale. . .  
  
"I am fine, Jonathan. . .I merely have a headache," Ardeth replied, then muttered under his breath. He spoke in Arabic, but Jonathan knew that he was blaming the Guardians and Rick for his headache. Not knowing what else to do, the Englishman placed the tray over Ardeth's lap. As he did, he caught his breath, a sudden chilly wind sweeping over him in a now- familiar sensation. When his vision cleared, he was once more in ancient Egypt.  
  
**Ardath was in the eighth month of her pregnancy, and Rameses was driving her mad with his overprotectiveness. Nassor understood why. Rameses almost lost Ardath when she miscarried their daughter, to say nothing of almost losing his father at the same time. However, Nassor also understand Ardath's exasperation with her beloved. Which was why he stayed with the couple as often as possible, to make sure Ardath didn't kill Rameses with her bare hands.  
  
At the moment, he and Rameses were arranging a tray at Ardath's bedside. She struggled into a sitting position. It was not easy, for the infant boy she carried in her womb was a large one, and she was a small woman. Nassor feared more for the delivery than he did for the pregnancy itself. As Rameses fussed over the tray, Nassor carefully arranged the pillows to make Ardath more comfortable, with Anck-su-namun looking on.  
  
At last, annoyed by the fussing of the two men, Anck cried out, "Enough!" The two men stopped what they were doing, exchanging a glance at the young concubine's obvious exasperation. She shooed away both Rameses and Nassor, continuing, "Ardath is pregnant, she is not ill and she is not dying. We have checked the food three times, Rameses. . .everything is fine. Now go, before she decides to strangle you, never mind the consequences!"  
  
"We should go, my friend," Nassor said, putting his hand on Rameses' shoulder, "We know that your Ardath is quite capable of knocking you senseless." He discreetly ignored Anck-su-namun's muttered, 'you assume he has sense *to* lose,' and turned to Ardath, saying, "We will return, dear lady." She nodded and Nassor added in a low voice, "And try to be patient with Rameses. He is only being annoying because he loves you so much." Ardath nodded once more, a rueful smile lighting her face.**  
  
Jonathan snapped back to reality, finding himself once more back in 1933 England. Neither Ardeth nor Celia noticed Jonathan's mental journey into the past. Ardeth was eating voraciously, though with dignity and restraint. Celia was eating as well, though much more slowly, and she said when she felt Jonathan's eyes on her, "I suggested that eating might help Ardeth's headache."  
  
"Are you sure punching out my brother-in-law won't help?" Jonathan asked. She just waggled her brows, and returned her attention to her husband. Ardeth was glowering, and Jonathan said apologetically, "So sorry, old chap, I forgot how much you hate it when people talk about you as if you weren't really here." A quick glance told him that Celia was struggling to keep from laughing outright.  
  
"Do not tempt me, Jonathan," Ardeth warned and Jonathan regretted teasing his friend. He also wanted to take a swing at his brother-in-law. What was Rick thinking? Ardeth continued, "You and Evelyn, and Alex, will always be important to me, but O'Connell has made it very clear, his position. I shall respect that." It took Jonathan a moment to figure out what his friend was saying, then his heart dropped.  
  
He said, shaking his head, "Don't say that, Ardeth. You've got every right to be furious with Rick, I'll never say otherwise. And he doesn't deserve to have you as a friend, but please don't make any decisions now." Ardeth didn't answer, but the way his eyes flashed, Jonathan had a sinking feeling he knew what his friend decided. *If only there was a way we could keep him one more day,* he thought desperately, *maybe we could convince him that Rick didn't mean it, that he's important to all of us!*  
  
One day, he would learn to be careful what he wished for. . .the gods would sometimes grant that wish, in a most unexpected way.  
  
. . .  
  
In the Afterlife, another argument raged. Ma'at, goddess of order and justice, was trying desperately to talk Isis and Horus out of their plan. She knew that it was already moving forward. It was put into motion from the moment Evy O'Connell touched the necklace. But there was always the chance to avert what was to come. She said now, **This is not necessary! The mortals have already started to render judgment!**  
  
**Too late, my dear Ma'at,** came the steely reply of Isis, **and you know that. It is too late for what young Ardath has planned, and it is too late for the Carnahans to change what has gone before. Rick O'Connell must learn what the cost of his actions are. We did not choose this course. We have never forced the mortals to do anything. We merely put the choices before them, and now they must face the consequences.**  
  
Ma'at knew she could not argue with that. More to the point, she wouldn't even try. Ma'at was as practical as any Egyptian, and it made no sense for her to argue when the other side was in the right. . .as was the case this time. But there was one other card left for her to play. She said, **I once told the mortals that I forgot one very important factor in judging the soul of Rameses. I told them that I forgot how mortals punish themselves, without any help from us. That is what will happen to O'Connell as well. Once he sees the truth, with no more blinders, he will punish himself.**  
  
**Perhaps you are willing to trust that,** Horus replied bitterly, **but I am not. You forget, Ma'at, when my name is invoked, I listen, just as you do. To every word, to every nuance.** Ma'at averted her eyes from the young god. Every time Ardeth spoke to his bird, Horus listened, and it was in this way that his hatred of Rick O'Connell grew. Horus continued, **Even if I were willing to trust Rick O'Connell, there is still the matter of the Guardians. We cannot allow this to continue.**  
  
She knew that as well. She knew that when Evy O'Connell followed her dreams to the Temple of Isis, and took the necklace of Nefertiri, she would awaken yet another evil. Only Isis and Horus could stop what came next, for they were the ones who placed the protective spell on the necklace. And it was to the mother and son that the Med-jai belonged. She sighed, **And what of the innocents in the crossfire?**  
  
**You know that we will try to protect them, Ma'at. But this has been repeating for several lifetimes. Terumun was the last persona who knew how to trust, and Rick O'Connell has been given enough chances through the centuries,** Isis replied. She paused, then added, **And do not blame this on Rameses turning against the Med-jai. The two are unrelated.** That was something Ma'at knew as well.  
  
She just didn't like the idea of Horus and Isis preparing this. . .now, what was the American saying? Oh yes. . .this double whammy for O'Connell. Ma'at knew about the plans currently underway by Anck-su-namun, Ardath, and Rameses. The two concubines drew Rameses into their plans, not that he fought them particularly hard. And the only thing more frightening, even to Ma'at, than the idea of Ardath, Anck-su-namun and Rameses joining forces in the Afterlife. . .was the possibility of Imhotep agreeing to help.  
  
She said with a sigh, **There is nothing I can do to talk you out of this. I just ask, my dear Friends, that you take care. You know as well as I that plans backfire. I am afraid that Rick O'Connell will turn against Ardeth Bey, once and for all, because of this plan of yours.** At that statement, the mother and son looked at each other. . .and smiled. The shared smile had the effect of making Ma'at even more nervous.  
  
**You have no reason to worry, my dear Ma'at, for what we have planned. . . well, if O'Connell turned against our Med-jai, then he would be an even smaller man than Celia Bey accused him of being,** Isis replied after a moment. Actually, Celia hadn't accused O'Connell of being a small man. . .just of having a small heart. There was a difference, albeit minute. Isis added, **And we must take action, if we want to prevent a greater evil from taking place.**  
  
**Yes, you have said that already,** Ma'at replied impatiently, **but you will not say what this greater evil is. What is at stake here? The lives of those young people? The fate of the world? The fate of the Med- jai? What are you trying to defeat?** The mother and son looked at each other, which made Ma'at grow nervous once more. She saw the confrontation in the O'Connell house once more, between the Guardians and the Med-jai chieftain.  
  
**It is all of the above, Ma'at. You know, of course, that Lady Ardath intends to illustrate to Rick O'Connell what would have happened to his family, if Andreas Bey commanded the Med-jai at the time of Imhotep's first rising. She wishes him to understand, once and for all, just how much he owes her child and ours,** Horus replied. Ma'at nodded. Yes. She didn't approve, as the line between justice and revenge was a fine one indeed in this situation. However, after being deterred time after time, Ardath's patience vanished. Ma'at could not deter her this time.  
  
**If we do not intervene, then the O'Connells, and Celia Bey, will find out exactly what kind of world this would be without the young chieftain,** Isis added. Ma'at looked at the pair, silently horrified. Isis continued, **As I said, the evil was unleashed when the Guardians were awakened. The same evil will cost Ardeth Bey his life if we do not intervene. Sister, please. I ask you. Do not attempt to stop us. Allow us to do what must be done, to protect our Med-jai.**  
  
Ma'at knew that the scales were out of balance. She knew that the mother and son were right, that balance had to be restored. Her main concern was that Horus and Isis were acting out of a desire for revenge. But now she understood that in their own way, they were trying to restore balance and justice. She sighed, **I still do not like this. But I like the idea of judging Ardeth Bey before his time even less. Do what you must.**  
  
**We thank you, Ma'at. There are a few more pieces which must be moved into position, before we can take action. And for my son, this will be the hardest part of all. He has long held much affection for Ardeth Bey, ever since the boy became a man and a warrior,** Isis said in an undertone. This was, of course, when his older brother gave Horus to him. The young god took an interest in the boy at that time, and that interest grew into a ferocious love.  
  
Ma'at wondered if his heart broke, as hers did, when the young chieftain called the hawk his best and most clever friend. As angered as she was by the past, Ma'at never held the succeeding generations of Med-jai responsible for the stupidity of their ancestors. Horus did not speak, did not answer the question in the mind of the goddess, though he heard it asked. Which, in a way, did answer her question. His heart broke for the loneliness which plagued the young Med-jai king for so long. . .and it broke anew when Horus was shot out of the sky. Ma'at allowed herself a cold smile, thinking of the eternal torment she visited upon Lock-nah. That was one sentence she enjoyed passing.  
  
But Ma'at did not speak of this. Instead, she asked next, **You spoke a moment ago of pieces which must be placed in position. . .what exactly did you mean by that?** Isis did not answer. At least, not directly. However, her eyes shifted to that Place In-Between, where Mathayus and Anck-su-namun previously watched over the mortals. Now, the young concubine and her best friend were making plans of her own.  
  
Ma'at understood. However, Isis said softly, **I know that you disapprove of the actions taken by Ardath and Anck-su-namun. I know you fear that both girls are being driven by a desire for revenge, rather than a need to see justice done. But in order for our plans to work, it is necessary for their plan to work. It is absolutely essential, and I promise we will not allow it to go too far. Indeed, we would fail in our own endeavor if we allowed Anck-su-namun the leeway she wishes in this matter.**  
  
**This will change everything, will it not? Rick O'Connell will not be the only one transformed by what those two are planning. Just as Alex O'Connell threatened to create a new apocalpyse, by putting on the Bracelet of Anubis, those girls will start a chain reaction of their own,** Ma'at observed. She watched them intently, seeing them examine each scenario, and listened to the ideas being exchanged.  
  
It surprised her little that Lady Ardath rejected any idea which meant inflicting physical harm upon O'Connell. . .and it surprised her even less that it was Anck-su-namun who made these suggestions. Isis replied, **If our plans work as they are supposed to. . .yes. Everything will change. Rick O'Connell, Evelyn O'Connell. . .even Ardeth Bey and his wife. Everything will change, and be better for the change.**  
  
Which meant, of course, that the balance would be restored. Ma'at looked first at the young newlyweds in the guest room of the O'Connell manor. Then she looked at the silent pair in the library. Finally, she looked at the best friends plotting to turn the world of Rick O'Connell upside down. At last, Ma'at looked back at the mother and son, and said, **So be it.** The sentence was signed. . .now, it would be carried out.  
  
. . .  
  
It started as such a pleasant day. Now it looked like Rick just lost his best friend, his wife was barely speaking to him, and his brother-in- law looked at Rick as if he was barely above a flesh-eating scarabs in Hamunaptra. Rick tried to talk to Ardeth and Celia before going to bed, but was coolly informed by a retreating Jonathan that they were both asleep. It could wait until morning. His brother-in-law physically put his own body between Rick and the door, and Rick didn't have the energy to push past him.  
  
Also exhausted by the emotional roller coaster of the day, Rick retreated to the room he shared with Evy. She was reading, and barely spared him a glance. He supposed he was lucky she didn't make him sleep on the couch. Or worse. Rick earlier watched her slip into Ardeth and Celia's room after he left. . .to his surprise, Jonathan was telling the truth. Ardeth was sound asleep, Celia locked firmly in his arms.  
  
He watched as Evy leaned over to kiss Ardeth's forehead, as if he was no older than Alex. She looked tired, and Rick realized with a pang of guilt that this day was difficult on her as well. Of course it was. . .she would have died, if not for Celia and Ardeth. When he could get one of those two to talk to him, he would find out exactly how they knew Evy was in danger. Rick couldn't accept that he just destroyed the one friendship which truly mattered to him.  
  
Ardeth was always there for him. He never failed Rick. But O'Connell knew that he couldn't say the same. As Rick lay in his bed, staring at his ceiling, his wife's words came back to haunt him. Without Ardeth, this family would not exist. He heard about Garai's dream, about the fate of the Med-jai, had Andreas lived. It didn't seem real to him, though. Perhaps it was a mark of just how deeply entrenched Ardeth was in his life and in his world, that Rick couldn't imagine what such a world would be like.  
  
As ever, he wasn't aware of falling asleep. . .one moment, he was awake, and the next. . .The next, he was in a strange place. A strangely familiar place. Rick looked around him, his heart racing. It looked like Ahm Shere, like Hamunaptra, like a hundred different temples he saw in his years of marriage to Evy. It was all of them and none of them. And standing in the middle of this strange room was a single, solitary figure. A young girl, it looked like.  
  
"So. You cannot fathom a world without Ardeth Bey, Rick O'Connell?" the girl asked. She spoke in ancient Egyptian, her words tinted by a slight accent that he couldn't place. More than that, he didn't understand why he understood, when Rick didn't understand a word of the ancient language. Hell, half the time he didn't understand Ardeth even when he spoke English! The girl turned to face him, long dark hair swinging about her shoulders.  
  
And it was then that he recognized her. The black wig which covered her own curly dark hair. The kohl-rimmed eyes and the pale face. Hazel eyes which burned into him only hours earlier. But it wasn't the same girl. This girl was much younger. . .and much older. Rick breathed, "Lady Ardath." She tilted her head to one side, before dipping it ever so slightly in a way which reminded Rick powerfully of his friend. Which was reasonable, considering she was Ardeth's own ancestress.  
  
"You do remember me. . .I am flattered. I was not certain if you would. The last time you saw me, I shared a body with my reincarnation," the young concubine observed. Rick was trying to process this information. This was no dream. He had no reason to dream about this woman. She was attired in her favorite white shift, with a gold belt at her waist, and her feet were bare. Ardath, beloved of Rameses, walked in a circle around Rick, continuing, "But you did not answer my question. You cannot imagine a world without Ardeth Bey? Perhaps, then, I should show you what Garai has seen."  
  
Rick found it hard to keep his eyes on this woman as she circled around him, though she kept her eyes on him in an unnerving way. She was twenty years old when she died. Younger than Evy was when they met. But in those twenty years of life, she experienced more than most people of the modern era did in their entire lives. Rick said slowly, "Why would you do this? Why have you brought me here?"  
  
"Why? I should think that was obvious, Mr. O'Connell. I wish to make sure you never take my child for granted again," Ardath answered. She stopped circling around him, her eyes boring into his once more. Rick tried to look away, tried to pull his eyes away from hers. But she would not allow that. She had a force of will that Rick couldn't remember from being Terumun. A force of will he witnessed many times in Ardeth.  
  
Rick said, "If this is about what happened today. . .I'm sorry. I went too far, and my brain quit working." Ardath once more began circling around him, making him very nervous. When Rick O'Connell became nervous, he also became defensive. Thus was the case when he snapped, "Dammit, what do you want from me? I apologized, I'll make it right with Ardeth!" The young woman stopped, her wig whipping around her face.  
  
Her eyes blazed as she hissed, "You cannot make it right, Rick O'Connell! You cannot, because you have no idea what kind of world would have been born in the wake of Imhotep's triumph! You cannot make it right, because you have no idea what kind of world would have been created without my child here to help you. You have no idea, because you still do not understand the sacrifices my child has made for you and yours!  
  
Rick jerked back, stunned by the potency of her rage. Lady Ardath nodded her head slowly, adding, "No, you have no idea. But you will. It is time for you to see what my child has meant to your family. Your wife was correct, when she told you that your family would not exist without my child. Not even she understands how correct she is, but I am sure she will. You see, even as I educate you. . .my Rameses shows what would have been to his reborn sister."  
  
"What would have been. . .what might have been? What's that got to do with anything? That's not important. What's important is reality, and the reality is, we kicked Imhotep's ass not once, but twice!" Rick blurted out. Wrong thing to say. Ardath's dark eyes narrowed and she stepped closer to him. One small hand reached out, touching Rick's chest. . .and knocked him back several feet. It took Rick a moment to shake off his dizziness, and when he did, the concubine was standing over him, her eyes burning into him like a pair of hot coals.  
  
He remembered from Terumun that when Ardath was angry, her eyes darkened until they were almost black. The same color they were right now. For that matter, they were the same color as Celia's when she was mad. Oh shit. He was screwed! Lady Ardath hissed, "Know this, Rick O'Connell. Reality is what you make of it. For every choice you make, there are other options which have the potential to alter your fate. That is why you are here. And you will not leave until you understand that, until you see the other possibilities which might have resulted from your choices and the choices made by others. By Andreas Bey, by Lock-nah, by Ardeth himself, and by your own wife."  
  
The words, the expression, the burning dark eyes served to remind Rick of another confrontation, eight years in the past. Dazed, he murmured, repeating those long-ago words, "Know this. This creature is the bringer of death. He will never eat. . .he will never sleep. . .and he will never stop." Ardeth's words to him after Evy awakened Imhotep, and Rick protested that Imhotep was dead.  
  
Lady Ardath raised an eyebrow and replied, "Very good. You do remember. Get up, Mr. O'Connell. I cannot show you the truth if you are lying on your back, staring up at me." Rick did as he was told and rose first to his knees, then to his feet. Ardath waved her hand, and one wall lit up. Rick's heart dropped as he recognized the scene. Hamunaptra, the night he first met Ardeth.  
  
Lady Ardath intoned, "Hamunaptra, 1926. In 1917, Andreas Bey, the headstrong chieftain, showed a rare moment of common sense. He, his seventeen year old brother, and the twelve Commanders hunted down Lock-nah for his crimes against the Med-jai, and executed him. On this night, Andreas Bey is thirty-one years old. He has a beautiful wife, and Ardeth is his second-in-command, for Andreas realizes that Ardeth is more level- headed and more inclined to look after the needs of the men than himself."  
  
Rick almost asked why she was showing him what he already knew, when the picture changed. Once more, a Med-jai raced after Jonathan, and once more, Rick tackled him from his horse, sending both men into a tent. But this time, it was not Ardeth who stared at him, but his older brother. Rick had a sudden, sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, because he saw none of the quiet strength and sensibility which marked Ardeth.  
  
He was proven correct, when the other Rick rolled back and lit a stick of dynamite. Instead of taking Rick's measure, Andreas rushed him with a wild cry of rage. The dream-Rick threw the dynamite, and Andreas batted it away with his scimitar. Rick saw his other self falling backward, with the scimitar poised to end his life. The dynamite exploded, and a scream tore the air. The scimitar stopped, and his assailant spun around, his eyes wild. He screamed his brother's name, then ran toward the explosion. Rick's dream self followed with the Americans.  
  
The men in black robes parted for their chieftain, except for a small group of men huddled around another. The dream-Rick stared in shock. He could see little of the victim, only a pair of boots under black robes. But he could see a small crater where the dynamite exploded. At the same time, the real Rick could tell something else. Ardeth's back was to the dynamite when it went off.  
  
He was the only one hurt, and Rick gave a strangled moan, whispering, "No." He didn't need Lady Ardath to gesture once more to know that Ardeth realized the danger, and pushed the men back from the dynamite before it went off. Rick said again, "No." But nothing changed. The horror on the faces of the Med-jai. Ardeth's motionless body. Was he alive, was he dead? Would he survive the injuries caused by his irrational older brother and the American? Rick didn't have a very good feeling about this, and he prayed that he wouldn't watch his best friend die, as he once watched his wife die.  
  
Andreas Bey fell to his knees beside his younger brother, moaning, "Ardeth. . .oh gods, no! No, no, no!" He gathered the unmoving form into his arms, rocking him back and forth. Jonathan came to the dream-Rick's side, guiding a stunned Evelyn. He was actually holding her upright, for she was still shaking off the effects of being knocked off her feet by the force of the shotgun blast when she fired it at the oncoming warrior.  
  
It was then that Rick realized that his friend wasn't quite dead, for both he and Lady Ardath heard the young warrior whispering something to his elder brother. The only thing which the dream-Rick heard was Andreas whispering in Arabic, "No, little brother, save your strength. You mustn't speak. . .just rest. Shhh." Now both the dream-Rick and the real Rick could see Ardeth cradled against his older brother's broad chest.  
  
A Med-jai was saying in Arabic, "He saw the dynamite when it hit, Andreas, and he started pushing us all back. He saved us, Andreas, and sacrificed himself." Rick bit back a moan, seeing the terrible injuries done to his friend by that stick of dynamite. Andreas growled, scooping Ardeth up into his arms and standing up straight. Ardeth was still breathing, barely, and draped over his brother's arms. He mercifully lost consciousness.  
  
Andreas came face to face with the dream-Rick, and said, "We will go now. But if we return tomorrow, and you are still here. . .if my brother dies. . .I will kill you." The dream-Rick looked at the unconscious form in the man's arms. Andreas called out, "Yalla, imshi!" Another rider took Ardeth's limp body from the chieftain, long enough for Andreas to mount his own horse. Then the older brother took Ardeth back, cradling him once more against his chest.  
  
The next scene was the Med-jai village, where the healers fought to save the young warrior. He lost a great deal of blood, much of it internal. Ardeth passed in and out of consciousness, moaning in pain when consciousness returned. But not enough consciousness to make him aware of his surroundings, or of the strong arms which held him so tightly. . .the arms of his older brother.  
  
By this time, tears were running down Rick's face. Ardeth was so stoic, there were times Rick forgot that the other man was just as fragile as any human being. But now, the only reality Ardeth knew was pain. He could focus on nothing else. He couldn't even see the tears streaking his older brother's face. As Ardeth struggled to breathe, Andreas whispered, "Fight, my little brother, fight. I need you, Ardeth, you are my strength." Rick tried to look away as Andreas kissed his brother's forehead, but his companion would not allow that. Andreas rasped out, "Oh gods, Ardeth, you cannot do this to me! What will I do without you? Gods, you cannot take my little brother! He is too young to die! Stay with me, Ardeth, stay with me. Just keep breathing."  
  
But the injuries were too much. The explosion catapulted Ardeth off his feet, before smashing him onto the ground with terrible force. The impact shattered the young warrior's spleen, broke several ribs, and those broken ribs in turn punctured his lung. Ardeth took a breath. . .released it. . .but his chest didn't rise again. The life left his body with that last breath, and Andreas Bey moaned his brother's name in denial and in grief, "No! Ardeth, Ardeth, Ardeth. . .oh gods, Ardeth, come back! Come back!"  
  
Rick felt icy fingers trickle down his spine, hearing himself in that anguished cry. He said those words. He cried out to his dying wife, begging her to come back to him. She did. But no one would restore his little brother to Andreas. That sick feeling returned to Rick, for he saw what would come next. Even as the grieving chieftain drew his brother once more into his arms, Rick knew, without Andreas saying the words.  
  
But he heard them, nonetheless. Andreas kissed his brother's forehead, before carefully gathering him up and carrying him outside. Under the rising sun, Andreas lifted his brother's body high in his arms. The grieving chieftain cried, "Gods of Egypt, welcome my brother into the Afterlife. Ma'at will weigh his heart, and find him worthy. And I. . .I shall take my revenge. He who killed my brother *will* die!"  
  
"I've seen enough," Rick told Lady Ardath as the image slowly faded away. He saw more than enough. She merely raised her eyebrows as Rick angrily wiped away his tears, and the American repeated, "I said, I've seen enough, you've proven your point! Andreas is gonna kill me, avenging his brother, and then he'll die himself at Imhotep's hands. Garai has told us about his dreams, I know what comes next!"  
  
"You have seen enough?" Lady Ardath murmured, tilting her head to one side. She regarded him thoughtfully, her forehead furrowed with concentration. Rick had no idea what she was looking for in him. He only knew that she didn't find it. She shook her head, saying, "You have seen enough, you say? I think not, Rick O'Connell. I think not. Behold. . .there is far more to see, than what I have shown you so far." She waved her hand, demonstrating exactly what she meant by *that* remark.  
  
. . .  
  
Evelyn O'Connell, of course, had no way of knowing what her husband was dreaming. She only knew once she fell asleep, she found herself in the past. . .in the nursery where Nefertiri once watched Rameses weep for his lost Ardath, and for the son who was her final gift to him. She knew one other thing. In this place, she wasn't pregnant. Evy looked around, frowning when she heard crying. It came from the crib, and Evy went to the source.  
  
A baby was crying. And that part of Evy which was Nefertiri whispered, "My nephew." She gathered the little boy into her arms, realizing with a start that she held the first Ardeth Bey. The first Med- jai chieftain, now just a helpless baby in her arms. She remembered dying at Ahm Shere, and thinking about the son she was leaving behind. 'Take care of Alex,' she told Rick when he asked her what to do. And for the first time, she thought about how Ardath must have felt, leaving her seven- day old son.  
  
"It was the worst thing which ever happened to her, my little sister," came a familiar voice. Evy turned to see Ardeth approach her. Only. . .it wasn't Ardeth. No familiar markings adorned his face, and Evy knew that this was Rameses, elder brother of Nefertiri, beloved prince of Ardath, and the father of the child now in her arms. Rameses approached her, his dark eyes shifting to the infant, and Evy reacted on pure instinct. She placed the little boy in his arms.  
  
Rameses tried to pull away, his eyes now looking panicked, but the baby began crying. Evy said severely, "Your son needs you, Rameses. You are no longer without your Ardath, my brother. . .will you let your son go so easily a second time?" Evy knew that giving Ardeth to Shakir was not easy for Rameses. . .not easy at all, and Rameses glared at her.  
  
But he didn't release his son. Instead, he drew little Ardeth closer, snapping, "It is time I educated you, little sister, just as your husband is being educated as we speak." He nodded toward one of the walls, in a gesture which reminded her powerfully of Ardeth. Of course it would. Ardeth was this man's reincarnation, as well as his descendant. Evy looked away from her brother. . .from Nefertiri's brother. . .and gasped at the sight in front of her.  
  
It was the night of the Med-jai raid at Hamunaptra, the night they first met Ardeth. But instead of Ardeth, his older brother Andreas was in charge, and Evy realized with horror that she was seeing the nightmare which tormented Garai. She actually saw the explosion that would have taken Ardeth's life. She watched the life leave Ardeth's body, and heard Andreas cry to the heavens, swearing revenge.  
  
In this horrible version of reality, they again remained at Hamunaptra. Only this time, the price of her arrogance was much, much higher. She watched herself reading from the Book of the Dead. . .heard Imhotep cry out in triumph and rage. . .and saw the swarm of locusts. She watched in horror as Mr Burns' glasses were trampled in the attempt to escape, and as his eyes and tongue were taken from him by Imhotep.  
  
And again, the reality twisted horribly. She heard about it from Garai. But seeing it was far different. Because as the group flew out of Hamunaptra, they once more stopped short at the sight of the Med-jai. But the Med-jai did not stop. Andreas stepped forward, drew his dagger and drove it deep into Rick's abdomen. Evy caught her breath, seeing an eerie reenactment of her own stabbing at the hands of Meela Nais.  
  
Andreas hissed, "I told you if my brother died, then I would kill you." He twisted the knife, driving a strangled groan from Rick, and continued, "My brother died this morning, now it is your turn." He drew the knife from Rick's body, stepping back, and allowed Rick to fall. Andreas turned his attention to Evy, saying, "You killed my brother as well, woman, but I will allow you to live. Now, GO! We must go on the hunt, and find a way to kill the Creature. GO!"  
  
But Andreas did not live through the hunt for Imhotep. Instead, he and his Med-jai were killed by the newly-awakened victim of the hom-dai. Evy couldn't look away. Imhotep tortured him for hours, until Andreas finally begged for death, tortured him and taunted him with visions of what Imhotep would do to his people once Anck-su-namun was successfully raised this time.  
  
Promises that he kept. But first, he killed those who opened the chest. His next target was Evy. Jonathan tried. . .tried so hard to protect her, but he met an equally deadly fate. Then it was Evy's turn. Ardeth was dead. Rick was dead. Jonathan was dead. The curator was dead. All of the Americans were dead. There was no one to save her when Imhotep sacrificed her to bring back Anck-su-namun. No one to stand in the high priest's way as he wiped out the Med-jai at Hamunaptra. Warriors from all twelve tribes, women, and children, it didn't matter.  
  
Nothing could stop him, but there was no happy ending for Imhotep or Anck-su-namun, either. At the insistence of the new queen, Lock-nah and his men found twenty-three year old Celia Ferguson in Chicago, abducted her, and brought her to Anck. But instead of commanding him to kill her, as Lock-nah anticipated, Anck screamed in rage when she beheld Celia's manacles.  
  
She freed the terrified girl, putting her arms around her protectively, and with that supposed betrayal, Lock-nah turned against his new mistress. He waited and watched through the years as the young queen grew attached to Ardath's reincarnation. In 1932, he struck. The plan was to kill Celia in full view of the queen. . .just as Imhotep and Anck-su-namun killed Seti while his daughter watched in horror from the balcony.  
  
But Lock-nah underestimated the queen. She overheard two of Lock- nah's men plotting to kill Celia. As Lock-nah lifted his sword to slay the young American woman, Anck-su-namun burst into the chamber and took the killing blow herself. Imhotep saw everything, and as Celia struggled into a sitting position, trying to save Anck-su-namun, the enraged high priest cut down his treacherous ex-servant himself.  
  
By now, tears were flowing freely down Evy's face. Three thousand years earlier, Anck-su-namun unwittingly caused the death of her best friend, by giving her the poisoned wine which Khaldun meant for Rameses. In 1932, Anck-su-namun sacrificed her own life to save Ardath's reincarnation, dying in Celia's arms as Imhotep begged her to live. When she died, his scream could be heard by the gods.  
  
But it wasn't over yet. For in the slaughter which came, one of Lock- nah's men escaped Imhotep's wrath. Celia, who was a living reminder of Anck-su-namun, remained with the high priest in the dark days which followed. The servants and slaves came to trust her, for she often intervened on their behalf. . .and in return, they told her what they knew. When Celia had enough information, she went to Imhotep.  
  
By this time, it was 1933, the year of the Scorpion. It was the intention of Hafez to wake the Scorpion King with the Bracelet of Anubis. If that happened, what remained of humanity would be wiped out. Imhotep's hatred was expended. He could allow no more people to die. He did not love Celia, not the way he loved Anck-su-namun. But the night before leaving for Ahm Shere, he lay with her, and then sent her from Egypt.  
  
She did not go alone. He sent all of his servants, all of his slaves with her. They were to protect her, and she was to find all the pockets of humanity which remained. Now, Imhotep regretted killing the Med-jai, for he knew he could have used their aid against the Anubis Warriors. But there was no help for it now. Instead, he asked Celia for one last boon before she left him. . .he wanted her to recite the spell which would make him mortal once more.  
  
It was a selfish thing to do. He created this world, and now he was turning that responsibility over to Celia, who was an innocent victim. But he had no desire to live in this world, not without his Anck-su-namun. And so, with tears streaming down her face, Celia chanted the words which would rob Imhotep of his mortality. Imhotep tenderly kissed her forehead one last time, then sent her on her way.  
  
Evy barely managed to wipe away her tears as she watched the journey to Ahm Shere. There, Hafez awakened the Scorpion King. . .and there he died, torn apart by the great pinchers of the once human king. There, too, the Scorpion King died. . .his Anubis Warriors never even made it out of the desert. But it was there, too, that Imhotep died. As before, he fell into the crack which opened to the underworld, and out of a sheer animal instinct for survival, he grabbed the ledge.  
  
But as he hung there, Imhotep again saw Anck-su-namun falling before Lock-nah's sword, in her desperate attempt to protect the reincarnation of her best friend. And as he had in Ahm Shere, in Evy's reality. . .Imhotep let go, unwilling to live without his love. The pyramid was sucked into the sand, until there was nothing left of the unnatural oasis which was there for five thousand years.  
  
The picture dimmed and Evy looked at Rameses, whispering hoarsely, "I understand now." She wanted to ask what happened to Celia and the others, but couldn't bring herself to voice the question. She wasn't sure she really wanted to know. There were only a handful of people remaining, after Imhotep expended his wrath. . .no more than a million all over the world. No, this time. . .this time, it was better *not* to know.  
  
Rameses said softly, "I see you do understand, my little sister. But there is more which you must see. More which you must know, before you truly understand." Evy wiped away her tears, looking at Nefertiri's older brother. But his face gave no sign of what he meant by that. He only waved his hand, drawing Evy's attention back to the wall which showed her the previous images. . .and this image was just as familiar. Ahm Shere. Rameses intoned, "Behold. Ahm Shere. . .and a different chain of events, thanks to a clumsy young acolyte." 


	4. World Turned Upside Down

Part Three  
  
Rick O'Connell was almost sick, seeing what followed his death. He watched Jonathan and Evy die, as Imhotep rose to power with Anck-su-namun. Because hotheaded Andreas Bey was in command, not Ardeth. A voice to his right said softly, "It surprises you that the life and death of one young Med-jai warrior could be so pivotal. The death of one young man can begin a chain reaction that will set off an apocalypse."  
  
Rick looked at her quickly, and Lady Ardath asked, "What. . .you thought my child was exaggerating the dangers of the Bracelet of Anubis?" Rick didn't answer her, devastated by what he saw. No Ardeth to fight at his side. No Evy. No Jonathan. Lady Ardath wasn't finished with him. She waved her hand again, and in a quiet voice that reminded Rick of Evy in lecture mode, she explained, "Ahm Shere. With a slight change, as you will see in a moment."  
  
And he did. Rick watched as Ardeth's mortal enemy, Lock-nah, looked down the barrel of his rifle at the departing Horus. Next, he saw a clumsy young acolyte ignore Hafez's warning to skirt around the huge man, and stumbled over the assassin to reach Alex with his water. The result. . .Lock-nah's aim was knocked off, Horus flew away safely with a triumphant answer to his master's worried cry, and the young acolyte died at the end of Lock-nah's sword.  
  
So, Ardeth remained with him, with Evy, and with Jonathan. There was no need for him to choose between the O'Connell family and his people. The rescue of Alex proceeded, and though Ardeth no longer had the impetus of Horus' death, Lock-nah still died. But as Ardeth caught up with the O'Connells, Alex was explaining to them about the bracelet. And the dream- Rick lunged at the approaching Ardeth, screaming, "Why didn't you tell us, you son of a bitch!"  
  
Ardeth had no time to defend himself as Rick's other self slammed him into the nearest tree. Evy grabbed the dream-Rick, crying out, "Rick, there's no time! We have to. . ." A chittering noise was heard and all five people saw the oncoming pygmy mummies. Evy added desperately, "We have to go!" Jonathan already had Alex in his arms, his eyes reflecting terror.  
  
The dream-Rick released Ardeth and took Alex from Jonathan's arms, hissing, "I swear if my son dies, I'll kill you!" He turned away, yelling, "Time to go!" The family made their way through the jungle, Ardeth at their backs. Alex cried out in pain, as the sun rose in the sky. The dream-Rick leaped forward, into the shade of the pyramid. Both father and son hit the sand with a thud. They lay there, until the dream-Rick rasped, "You know. . .it's not easy. . .being a dad."  
  
Alex turned his face up to his father, smiling as he had in the pyramid that day, and replied, "Yeah. . .but you're really good at it." The dream-Rick managed a 'thanks' as the bracelet unlocked itself and fell to the ground. The little boy picked it up with an expression of distaste, hurling it as far away as he could, before sinking back against his father's chest. Rick swallowed hard, knowing what was to come.  
  
Ardeth, Evy, and Jonathan arrived, Evy crying out, "They made it! Oh, thank God!" Rick's spine began to tingle as he saw Meela and Imhotep approach. The dream-Rick was sitting up, his blood running cold at the sight of that woman anywhere near his wife. But here again, things changed.  
  
As Meela put her hand on Evy's shoulder, the other hand drew back to stab Rick's wife. But this time, it was not Evy whom she stabbed. It was Ardeth. Rick watched in horror as his best friend pushed between the two women, taking the thrust meant for Evy into his own midsection. Meela was startled, then smiled coldly, saying, "It was my intent to kill the woman, but the Med-jai will do just as well."  
  
She removed the dagger as Ardeth fell to his knees, then collapsed against Evy, dragging her down to the ground with him. The dream-Rick didn't see the dagger slice through Ardeth's robes. . .he only saw Evy fall, and he screamed hoarsely in denial, "NO!" Rick O'Connell who watched with Lady Ardath, was also screaming, "NO!" Especially when his dream-self physically pulled Ardeth's body away from Evy. . .  
  
Only to have Evy struggle away, screaming, "Ardeth! Oh God, no. . .why, Ardeth, why?" She drew the wounded man into her arms, whimpering at the blood covering Ardeth's hands. He was dying. . .Rick could see it in his eyes. The dream-Rick's eyes held a moment of relief, as he realized that his wife wasn't hurt. . .relief followed by something else.  
  
Ardeth answered in a weak voice, "I did not know. . .about the death. . .of your son. But it was. . .necessary. . .for me to atone. Evelyn. I would have. . .I would have told you. I would have told you. . .if I had known. Forgive me. . .please forgive me?" Evy began crying as Ardeth groaned in pain. The dream-Rick now stared at Ardeth, guilt-ridden as he realized that his friend had no idea that the Bracelet might kill Alex.  
  
"Oh, sweet Ardeth. . .there's nothing to forgive. I know you would have told us, if you knew, there's no reason for you to apologize. Save your strength, we'll get you out of here," Evy whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. But Ardeth's blood was leaving his body too fast, and his internal organs suffered too much damage in the attack. He was dying. He whispered something in Arabic, then his body went limp in Evy's arms.  
  
Now the dream-Rick fell to his knees beside his wife and friend, Alex held firmly in Jonathan's arms, and the dream-Rick whispered, "Open your eyes, Ardeth. . .open your eyes! Don't you do this to us! Oh God, buddy. . .don't go! I didn't even have the chance to apologize. ARDETH!" But Ardeth was gone. Alex, who barely knew the brave Med-jai, turned in his uncle's arms, softly weeping.  
  
Evy's tears ran dry, though her face was still wet. She gently caressed Ardeth's face, then kissed his forehead, whispering, "Good-bye, sweet friend. I love you, and I always will." She looked at the dream- Rick, her face reflecting only determination, and said, "Rick. . .we have work to do. Imhotep is still planning to awaken the Scorpion King, and I for one have no intention of seeing Ardeth's sacrifice be in vain."  
  
The dream-Rick looked at her and whispered, "I'll kill them. I'll kill all of them. They kidnapped my son. . .they tried to kill my wife. . ." His voice trailed off as he looked at Ardeth, then added hoarsely, "And they did kill my best friend. Rest easy, buddy." The dream-Rick squeezed Ardeth's shoulder, then pushed himself to his feet. He looked at Jonathan, Evy, and Alex, adding, "Stay here." With that, he walked silently into the temple. He had a mummy to kill. . .and a promise to keep.  
  
. . .  
  
"NOOOOOO!" Evy O'Connell screamed, falling to her knees. She covered her mouth with her hand, sobbing helplessly. It didn't happen like that, she knew. But it was the second time she saw Ardeth die, and it hurt as much the first time. No, it hurt more, because this time, he died saving her life. She watched, still crying, as Rick set out for the temple, his face set into grim lines, and as her dream-self cradled Ardeth.  
  
The screen went blank, and Evy rounded on Nefertiri's brother, demanding, "What happened next? What happened next, damn you, I demand to know what happened next!" She was barely aware of the tears that streaked her face, tears which started anew when she looked at Rameses. Rameses, who looked so much like Ardeth, without the curly hair or the Med-jai wardings. . .whose spirit was reborn in her friend.  
  
Rameses looked at her almost sadly, asking, "Are you sure you wish to see what comes next, Evelyn O'Connell?" That should have tipped her off, that what happened after her friend's death, wasn't something she really wanted to see. But Evy wasn't thinking clearly, not after what she just saw, and she simply stared at the prince angrily. He sighed, "Evelyn, please believe me. . .I speak to you, Rameses to Nefertiri. This is not something you wish to see."  
  
"Show me, dammit! You wanted me to see what my family would have been without Ardeth. . .then show me the rest of it! You show me what would have happened after your reincarnation died in my arms!" Evy snarled. Rameses actually flinched, when she referred to Ardeth as his reincarnation, and Evy added, "Yes, your reincarnation, your descendant, the namesake of your beloved concubine. . .your wife in all but name!"  
  
"Enough! I know whom Ardeth Bey is! You wish to see what would have happened after he sacrificed himself for you, my little sister? Then watch!" Rameses fired back, waving his hand once more. Evy saw herself, still cradling Ardeth's lifeless body in her arms. The tears long since ceased, and her dream-self was gently caressing the tattoos on Ardeth's forehead. Rameses whispered, "Only moments have passed since his death."  
  
Evy was on the point of asking why he was telling her this, when the dream-Evy suddenly shifted her weight, easing Ardeth to the ground. Alex, who quietly cried himself out in Jonathan's arms, looked up suddenly, asking, "Mum? Mummy, what are you doing?" The dream-Evy didn't answer immediately. She knelt beside Ardeth, kissing his forehead before gently arranging his hands over his wound.  
  
Then she looked at her son and said, "Finishing things with Meela. . .Anck-su-namun, whoever she is. She'll pay for killing Ardeth. I'm the one she wanted. . .and now, I'm the one whom she'll face. Jonathan. . .stay with Alex and Ardeth. Don't let anyone else hurt him. He's been through enough." He was dead, but Jonathan understood what she meant. He was to ensure that Ardeth's body was left in peace.  
  
The dream-Evy paused long enough to hug her son, then moved purposefully toward the temple. What came next. . .what came next was what must have happened after she died. Jonathan went to his nephew, who took his mother's place beside Ardeth. The Englishman tried to console Alex, who blamed himself for Ardeth's murder, by reminding the boy that he was at peace, in a better place. Like it said in the Good Book.  
  
Alex's head snapped up, and he exclaimed, "That's it! The Book! C'mon, Uncle Jon, c'mon! The Book! We can bring him back to life. . .the Book of the Dead! That evil witch had the Black Book, but if we get it, we can bring Ardeth back!" It took Jonathan a moment to understand, then his blue eyes lit up. He carefully lifted Ardeth, easing him over one shoulder with a grunt, then followed his nephew into the temple.  
  
Inside the Temple, the dream-Evy confronted Meela. Unnoticed by either woman, Alex hurried to the altar, took the Book, then returned to his uncle and Ardeth. Jonathan held the book while Alex chanted over their fallen friend until he came to a hieroglyph he didn't know. So close to completing the ritual, Alex cried, "Uncle Jon, I don't know what this last symbol is!"  
  
Unable to see over the top of the book, Jonathan asked, "What's it look like, Alex? Easy, lad, getting upset won't help Ardeth." Alex tried to calm down, but he was frustrated. Evy saw it in his eyes. He carried so much on his small shoulders. If he never put the bracelet on, none of this would have happened. Ardeth wouldn't be dead. But he was determined to put things right.  
  
"A bird. . .a stork!" the child answered, growing all the more desperate. The symbol looked so familiar, but he couldn't remember what it was! He had to remember! The longer he waited to bring Ardeth back, the harder it would be for their friend to return to his body! He wouldn't want to return from heaven! But they needed Ardeth, Alex knew that, even if his father didn't. They still needed him and always would.  
  
Jonathan bounced where he sat, crowing, "I know that one, I know that one!" It was all Evy could do to keep from laughing, even under these circumstances. Alex actually hit his uncle's shoulder, demanding to know what it was, and Jonathan burst out, almost stuttering with his excitement, "A. . .a. . .a. . .amenaphous!"  
  
Evy did laugh then, because she had that same conversation with her brother years earlier in Hamunaptra. Alex's eyes lit up as he realized that his uncle was right, and he triumphantly finished the ritual, crying out, "That's it! Efray shakra amenanphous!" Both his, and Jonathan's, eyes widened as a bright, golden light surrounded Ardeth's prone body. Evy couldn't look away, for while she felt her soul being drawn back into her body, she didn't know what it looked like.  
  
Ardeth took a deep breath, coughing and groaning at the same time. Jonathan scrambled over when his shock wore off and eased him onto his side. He murmured, "Easy, lad, just take it easy. Had quite the shock, you have." And much to Evy's shock, as her brother held Ardeth steady, her son rubbed Ardeth's back. Once the coughing fit eased, Ardeth groaned again and Jonathan said, "Just lie still a few moments, Ardeth."  
  
The Med-jai had his hands pressed to his abdomen, and Evy frowned. She didn't recall her wound paining her when she returned to life. Rameses said very quietly, "No, but you were not injured prior to your stabbing. Ardeth's body suffered many traumas, and his body will not heal as quickly as yours did." Evy nodded, realizing that he spoke the truth. And for the second time, the screen went black. Evy turned to Rameses, her mouth opening in protest.  
  
But this time, Rameses said, "No. I may show you no more. What comes next is not for you to see, not in your condition." Evy fell silent, not entirely sure she wanted to dispute that. For while she was not pregnant in this dreamworld, she most assuredly *was* pregnant in reality, and she didn't want to do anything that would harm her child. Rameses sighed, placing his hand gently on her shoulder, and said, "You have seen what you were meant to see, Evelyn O'Connell. Remember it. More to the point, do not allow your husband to forget."  
  
Evy nodded soberly, realizing that her time here was over. She said softly, "I will never forget, Rameses. I will not forget what my family owes him. . .and I will not forget that he is my family, and has always been." Rameses nodded, then bent over to kiss her cheek. With that, Evy was drawn out of that world, and into a pleasant dream world where her parents never died, and where Ardeth was a part of her life since childhood.  
  
. . .  
  
Rick O'Connell watched in silence as his son and brother-in-law brought Ardeth Bey back from the dead. He was struggling with tears once more, tears of relief as Ardeth groaned. He was in pain, and his lungs were struggling to breathe, but Ardeth was alive. Rick knew that he was watching, more or less, what happened when Alex brought Evy back from the dead. But in this reality, Evy was already fighting Meela.  
  
Rick winced as Alex hurtled toward the Med-jai, throwing his arms around Ardeth and hugging him fiercely. The little boy kept apologizing, though Rick wasn't sure if he was apologizing for putting the bracelet on or because he was smothering poor Ardeth. At last, Jonathan gently pulled his nephew away from the suffocating Med-jai, who found it even harder to breathe in the last few minutes. Alex immediately realized his mistake and apologized again.  
  
"It is. . .not. . .important. Go. . .help. . .your parents. . .Alex O'Connell," Ardeth finally managed to force out. Jonathan was supporting his weight, and Ardeth groaned again, his head lolling back against the wall. The boy looked at Jonathan, who nodded. Rick could see the silent message pass between the two 'boys.' The look which Jonathan directed at his nephew clearly said, 'Go, I'll take care of him.'  
  
Alex hugged Ardeth again, much more gently this time, and ran toward the main chamber. Jonathan helped Ardeth to his feet. . .but just as they started forward, the dream-Rick burst into the chamber, the Scorpion King hot on his trail. And they found that the golden stick which Jonathan confiscated from Izzy was the Spear of Osiris. . .the very weapon they needed to slay the Scorpion King.  
  
Then he was off and running again. Jonathan looked from the dream- Rick to Ardeth, clearly worried about his friend. Ardeth rasped out, "I will be. . .just fine. Help O'Connell." Jonathan stared at him for a minute, then squeezed his shoulder. Ardeth, who was hunched over in pain, just smiled at him weakly, adding, "This is the. . .second time today. . .you have saved my life."  
  
Jonathan swallowed hard, then stepped forward to draw Ardeth into a fierce embrace, whispering, "Yes, well, who's counting? It's good to have you back, old boy. Take care of yourself. I won't be around to do it." Ardeth winced, but managed to nod. Jonathan took off running, chasing after Rick. Ardeth gasped in pain, sinking slowly to his knees, and Rick looked at Lady Ardath in concern.  
  
"What's wrong," he asked anxiously, "why is he doubled over? Evy seemed all right after she came back." The young concubine didn't answer at first. . .her focus was solely on this strange, warped reality. Just a little change, it was. The difference between life and death for Horus also meant the difference between life and death for Ardeth, and Rick wondered if the hawk would have been pleased with the exchange.  
  
The dream-Rick just drove the Spear of Osiris deep into the Scorpion King's body, defiantly telling him to 'go to hell and take your friends with you.' Imhotep fell to one knee behind him, screaming, 'Niy!' And then, a great earthquake rocked the pyramid, even as black sand blew through the halls. When the dust settled, Evy and Meela were crouched in their corner, the dream-Rick and Imhotep were hang onto the ledge, while Jonathan protected Alex.  
  
Once more, the dream-Rick screamed for Evy to leave. . .go, just go! And once more, her face grew determined. . .but this time, Rick could hear what his wife was thinking. *Ardeth died saving my life. . .I'll not allow Rick to die!* With that, she ran forward. Alex screamed in terror, and Jonathan looked away, then back again. All was as it was months earlier. But the outcome was different. So focused was Evy on reaching her husband, that she did not take the care in watching the falling rocks. A falling rock struck her, causing a mortal wound.  
  
Both the dream-Rick and the real Rick O'Connell screamed in denial, even as a second figure was visible in the doorway where Meela crouched. Except, Rick realized, she was no longer Meela, but Anck-su-namun. And the figure was. . .Ardeth. He cried out, "Evelyn?" And again, the dream- Rick screamed, for his best friend was following the path taken by his wife only a few minutes earlier.  
  
But Ardeth showed the same caution which Evy demonstrated when she came for him at Ahm Shere. Imhotep was screaming at Anck-su-namun to leave, to save herself. But like Evy, her face settled into grim lines and she followed Ardeth. The Med-jai reached Evy first, moaning her name as he fell to his knees. She smiled at him weakly, begging him to finish what she started. Anck-su-namun dropped to her knees, whispering, "I will stay with the princess, Med-jai, until her brother comes." Ardeth looked up at her, and the concubine added, "I wished to settle things between us, Med- jai. I never wished for it to end like this. Go. I will not harm her."  
  
"If you do harm her. . ." Ardeth began. His face tightened with pain, and he doubled over. Anck-su-namun's eyes widened, and she put her hand on Ardeth's back. The sympathetic gesture surprised her as much as it did him. Ardeth finally got his breath back, then said, "Then I will trust her to you." He took one more deep breath, then raced across the remaining distance, carefully timing his progress to avoid falling rocks.  
  
By the time Ardeth reached Rick, Jonathan joined the two women, and Anck followed Ardeth. Except she miscalculated, and a rock hit her. Imhotep screamed in anguish as Ardeth fell to his knees. The old enemies looked at each other, then Imhotep smiled weakly, throwing himself into the Underworld. This bought them time, and allowed Ardeth to pull the dream- Rick to safety. He was pushed aside as the dream-Rick ran to Evy. He took her from Jonathan's arms, never noticing Ardeth's collapse.  
  
Jonathan snatched up Alex, even as the little boy screamed that they couldn't leave Ardeth. Rick shook his head, mouthing 'no' as Ardeth simply lay there. It was then that they received another surprising gift of aid. This time, from Anck-su-namun. When the stone hit her, it drove out Meela for good, and the concubine made her way to Ardeth, helping him up. Rick watched in astonishment as the woman who killed Ardeth earlier in the day now guided him out of the temple.  
  
Up they went, Anck-su-namun never releasing Ardeth, never allowing him to falter. Evy was silent, but the dream-Rick wouldn't let her go. Izzy showed up in his repaired dirigible. He maneuvered his airship until Rick could carry Evy aboard, then Jonathan pushed Alex onto the ropes, then helped Anck-su-namun with Ardeth. Time was running out, but Jonathan still managed to grab the diamond from the pyramid, pushing it aboard as Izzy fired up the engines.  
  
On the dirigible, Evy whispered that she loved Rick. She wanted him to take care of Alex and Ardeth. . .he knew as well as she did that Ardeth would blame himself for Evy's death. It wasn't his fault. She made the choice. She just hoped he could forgive her for destroying his sacrifice. Then she died in the dream-Rick's arms, and this time, nothing could bring her back. The Book was lost, left behind in the insanity.  
  
Alex was once more in his uncle's arms, sobbing. And Anck-su-namun held Ardeth, who finally lost consciousness when they reached the safety of the airship. By looking into her heart and mind, Rick could see she wasn't sure why she did this. Why she saved Ardeth Bey. . .but she knew it was necessary. She hugged him again, making sure he wasn't bleeding again, and satisfied herself that he was just exhausted. Then the screen went dark, and Lady Ardath turned to Rick O'Connell with a grim expression.  
  
"I wouldn't do that," Rick said hoarsely. But he knew he would have. He knew that he had. Just as he knew Ardeth would have sacrificed himself to save Evy. Rick swallowed hard, barely able to meet the concubine's eyes, and he whispered, "What do you want from me? I've treated him badly, especially lately, I *know* that! And the futures you showed me. . .they frightened me. What more do you want?"  
  
"Must you really ask, Rick O'Connell, what I want? Very well. I shall tell you. I want to make sure you never take my child for granted again. I want you to remember what I showed you, every time you look at Ardeth from this day forward. I want you to keep that image of Andreas crying over his brother's body in the back of your mind for all eternity, along with the image of that destroyed future!" the young woman fired back.  
  
She asked very little. Rick knew that. Confronted with his own actions and attitude, Rick now knew that he could never go back to the way he was. He could only move forward. He swallowed hard again, answering, "I give you my word. As a past Med-jai. I will never take him for granted again." As the words were spoken, a vision of that past reality which ended the lives of everyone he loved flashed through his mind.  
  
"Then you may return," Lady Ardath said, inclining her head. It was just that easy. One moment, he was in the dream world, and the next. . .  
  
. . .  
  
Rick sat upright in his bed, trembling. Oh God, that was one helluva dream! He tried to stop shaking, but the image of Ardeth dying in his brother's arms wouldn't leave his head. Rick threw back the covers and left the bed. He looked at Evy. She was alive. So long as she drew breath, there were always second chances. And a second chance was what he was given. Rick leaned over and brushed her forehead with his lips, then quietly left the room. He made sure that Evy was all right. Now he would check on Ardeth.  
  
That image, of Ardeth dying in the arms of his brother, haunted Rick as he headed across the hall to the guestroom. Ardeth. . .dead. Rick had to make sure he was all right, because the American couldn't imagine losing him. Ardeth was his constant. He and Evy. The one person he could always depend upon, no matter how much Rick pushed him away. And Rick *always* pushed him away, at least in the beginning, before he realized how much he needed him.  
  
The American carefully pushed the door open, light filtering into the bedroom, and peered inside. Ardeth remained locked in the arms of his own wife, both protective and protected. Rick breathed a little in relief, but couldn't leave until he was sure Ardeth was truly all right. He slipped quietly into the room, not stopping until he reached the bed, and he could heard Ardeth breathe, until he could see his friend's chest rise and fall.  
  
Rick remembered what Ardeth told him the night before his wedding to Celia, when he got drunk. How Rick reminded him of his older brother Andreas. After seeing what might have been, Rick understood better now. And the truth was. . .the truth was, despite the rocky beginning, Rick came to love this man as a younger brother. The brother Rick always wanted while he was growing up.  
  
"Rick, what are you doing?" a sleepy voice asked. Rick turned to see his wife entering the room behind him, her hand resting on her abdomen. Evy put on a robe before she came into the room, but forgotten her slippers. Rick started to answer, then she continued, "Well, it can wait until morning. Ardeth's had a perfectly awful two days, and he needs to rest." With that, she took Rick's arm and led him out of the room before he could wake either Ardeth or Celia.  
  
Outside the room, Rick turned to his wife, saying softly, "I had to make sure he was all right. The dream. . .god, my dreams tonight." He rubbed at his eyes, then pulled his wife in his arms, whispering, "I dreamed that you died, Evy. Everyone died, and there was no one to stand against Imhotep, because Ardeth died during the first raid at Hamunaptra. I had to make sure he was all right, Evy." He couldn't bring himself to tell her about Ahm Shere.  
  
Evy went still in his arms, and then she pulled back to look at him. She finally said softly, "Rick. . .you're crying." She wiped away his tears, the tears he wept when he watched his best friend die twice, then continued, "You had the same dream I did, I think. And if you really must know, I came to check on him, too. On both of them. But they need to sleep. We can both apologize to him in the morning."  
  
"You? Why should you apologize? You. . .you never lashed out at him when he was trying to help you. Hell, Evy, you've always been the one to listen to him first. There's no reason for you to apologize to Ardeth, because you didn't do anything wrong," Rick answered hoarsely.  
  
"That's where you're wrong, Rick. . .that's where you're wrong," Evy said quietly, her dark eyes haunted by something she saw in her dreams, something which he obviously hadn't. She stared at the now-closed door, murmuring, "I never thanked him for helping you to rescue me. I never thanked him for putting our family above his people. I've taken him for granted, too, Rick, but no more. We could have lost him so many times."  
  
Rick looked at the door, too. There was a part of him which wanted to go back into the room, wake Ardeth, and tell him just how sorry he was. For everything. That was selfish, he knew. As selfish as anything he did in his life. He didn't know what kinds of things had gone wrong over the last few days, but he knew that if he didn't back down now, he would have a pint-sized American Fury on his hands. And he *really* didn't want to piss off Celia again.  
  
"It won't happen again. From here on out. . ." Rick began, then had to stop. He developed a rather large lump in his throat, and found it very hard to speak. Rick looked away, then back at his wife. The more tender emotions were always hard for him, though Evy softened some of those hard edges. It was easy for him to tell Evy, and his son, how much he loved them. But friendship with a man. . .that was much harder.  
  
Men were different, after all. They didn't. . .they couldn't tell each other how important they were. That wasn't the way they were. And Rick, who considered Beni to be his best friend up until 1923, when Beni left him to die, found it harder than most to trust anyone, at all. Even someone who repeatedly proven himself loyal over the years, like Ardeth. Someone who was a constant in Rick's life.  
  
Even when Rick pushed him away, Ardeth was there, strong and reliable and level-headed, because Rick reminded Ardeth so very much of his older brother. Rick was different, of course, because he didn't grow up in a big, loving family as Andreas Bey did. But in other ways, they were very much alike. Right down to their vengeful nature. In that other reality, Andreas killed Rick because he held him responsible for his brother's death. In this reality, Rick killed the Scorpion King and intended to kill Imhotep, as payback for Evy's murder. And if someone killed his brother. . .as they had in that other reality. . . then Rick would have done the exact same thing Andreas did.  
  
At last, Rick put his hands on his wife's shoulders, saying softly, "I'll need your help, Evy, when I talk to Ardeth in the morning. I'll need you to help me. . .because I don't know how to do this. I told you once that you and Alex were the only things in my life that mattered. And you are the most important people to me, you always will be. That will never change. But family isn't just about blood and marriage. It's. . .it's also about going through hell together, and always being there for each other. Whether I'm a Med-jai or not. . .that's beside the point, it's not important. Ardeth is family, he's our brother. . .and I have to learn to stop fighting that."  
  
Evy smiled, cupping his face in her hands, and replied, "You're wrong about one thing, darling. It *is* important, and you *are* a Med-jai. Aside from the part about the Bracelet of Anubis killing Alex, when has Ardeth ever been wrong? But you're right about something far more important. Ardeth is part of our family. And I will help you tomorrow. But for now. . .for now, we need to sleep as well."  
  
Rick nodded, the adrenaline which poured through him after waking from the dream now dying down. Weariness overwhelmed him. Yes, they would talk to Ardeth in the morning. He would do whatever his friend wanted, he would apologize, but he would find a way to make things right. He just knew he couldn't allow Ardeth to leave in the morning. . .he couldn't let things go the way they were.  
  
. . .  
  
His wife had this annoying habit of awakening before he did. But as Ardeth Bey opened his eyes, to find Celia smiling down at him, he couldn't be too terribly annoyed with her. He closed his eyes once more, sighing, "And what, exactly, are you smiling at, my love?" She didn't answer, not with words. Instead, her lips brushed across his forehead, over his cheeks, caressing his lips, before sweeping along his neck.  
  
"I am smiling at how well you sleep in my arms," she answered, her words a breath against his skin. Ardeth blushed. Yes, he did. His men noticed it while they were on patrol, calling attention to the circles under his eyes. Thus, Ardeth learned his men worried about him. He knew that they looked to him, and cared for him. . .but worried for him? That was something new, and he wasn't sure how to handle it.  
  
Even the warriors who disapproved of his choice acknowledged that his sleep was much more restful, when his wife was in his arms. They were not happy about this, but it was a step forward. Besides, after her dance the night before their wedding, no more Med-jai could say she was not the reincarnation of Lady Ardath. And fortunately, Celia knew that she had to earn her own place among the Med-jai. For this wisdom, she was accorded more grudging respect.  
  
Ardeth barely bit back a moan as Celia nuzzled the side of his neck. How on earth did she do this to him? His body just came alive when she touched him. But if they wanted to leave today, he had to stop her before her mouth. . .or hands. . .moved much lower. They spent almost the entire day after their wedding, making love. Celia was quite insatiable. Of the two, she had more sexual experience, and Ardeth quickly realized that when they were alone, she would make up for any time lost during the day. Ardeth was still uncomfortable with physical affection when others could see them. He spent too many years, tightly controlling his emotions and his body.  
  
On the other hand, Ardeth enacted payback of his own, the morning after the wedding. Ardeth was highly unaccustomed to. . .well, to being so passive. Celia told him that she intended to take care of him, and would pleasure him until he was out of his mind with desire, but until the end, she didn't allow him to touch her. And Ardeth wanted to touch her. . .wanted that so badly.  
  
The following morning, Ardeth returned the favor. However, unlike his new wife, he had far more experience in tying (and untying) bonds. And he made sure the scarf binding his wife's wrists was secure indeed, before he began worshipping her body. Ardeth grinned at the memory, and her promise to never try such a one-sided night again. Unless, of course, she was punishing him. What a punishment, though. Most warriors he knew, their wives punished them by making them sleep outside the tent.  
  
"What are you laughing at?" Celia asked now, her fingers sliding along his sides as she kissed the hollow of his throat. Ardeth just looked at her, barely suppressing his grin, and Celia allowed her hands to wander a little further. Allowed? No, that was wrong. That action was quite deliberate. And so were the lips which trailed oh so slowly down his chest, over his ribs, and seemed destined to more points south.  
  
Ardeth, knowing how his body reacted to her touch the closer her hands or lips got to his nether regions, quickly put a stop to *that.* He curled his fingers around the nape of her neck, drawing her up to kiss her firmly, before rolling over atop her. And since turnabout *is* fair play, he set to tickling her sides, even as he smothered her giggles with his mouth. However, Celia was no more one to be passive than Ardeth himself was, and she grasped his wrists, wrapping his arms around her, before she locked her legs around his waist.  
  
There were times in a warrior's life when the most sensible thing to do in a fight was call a truce, or a strategic retreat. Ardeth quickly realized this was one fight he would lose, no matter how dirty he fought, because Celia was equally willing to fight dirty. And so he broke the kiss, gasping, "Enough, I surrender. I will always surrender to you, my Celia. And we have a train to catch to Scotland."  
  
Celia's eyes grew sad, and she asked, "You still want to leave today?" Ardeth didn't bother answering that. The eight or so hours of sleep did not change his mind about that. He wanted to leave today, and he wanted to leave before anyone else was up. Perhaps it was cowardly, but he couldn't bear to see Evelyn's expression when they left, and though he now knew his friendship with O'Connell was damaged beyond repair, Ardeth didn't feel comfortable about being in the middle of an argument between them.  
  
"I wish to leave today. . .preferably before the others are awake. Cowardly, aywa, but I find even after a decent night's sleep, I have no desire for another scene," Ardeth acknowledged. The sadness in his wife's eyes gave way to a pained compassion. She reached up, gently caressing one of the tattoos on his right cheek. Ardeth turned his head, ever so slightly, and kissed the palm of her hand.  
  
"Nor do I. All right. Let me see who is awake, and if it's just Evy, we'll get something to eat. If everyone is asleep, then we'll leave after I write Evy a short note," Celia replied. Ardeth thought about that for a moment, then nodded. Yes, that was an acceptable compromise. He rolled off his wife, allowing her to get up. Celia scooted off the bed, unable to stop herself from one last caress, lightly brushing her fingers across the muscles of his stomach. Ardeth gasped, his eyes narrowing at his wife. Damn her, she was doing it to him again!  
  
She just smiled at him and left the room, her hips swaying slightly. Ardeth collapsed against the bed once more with a groan. The woman was insatiable, and she would end up killing him. There were no two ways about it. After a moment, he began to smile. Yes, she most likely would, but there was no better way to go, unless it was in battle. His smile faded slowly. He fell in love with her not that long ago, and the passion of those feelings took his breath away. What frightened him now was how he came to love her even more.  
  
Given his own fierce devotion to his wife, Ardeth could understand the determination O'Connell demonstrated on countless occasions to protect his wife. Ardeth would sacrifice his own life to protect his Celia. . .he could hardly judge O'Connell for wishing to do the same, even if Ardeth *didn't* love Evy as a sister. However, he thought O'Connell trusted him enough to realize that Ardeth would never willingly place Evelyn or Alex, or the unborn child, at risk.  
  
Clearly, he was wrong. And Ardeth now accepted that with a cold feeling in his gut. He didn't like accepting it, of course. But he had no other choice. It was over. Ardeth lifted his head as Celia slipped back into the room, saying softly, "Everyone is asleep. It is rather early, after all. . .at least for them." Ardeth smiled ruefully, realizing she was right. Not everyone was awake before dawn, like the Med-jai.  
  
"Then we will quietly pack, and leave. Do you wish to get dressed before or after you write your note to Evelyn?" Ardeth asked, raising his eyebrows at the way his wife was running around in just her nightgown. Celia responded with her own version of Evelyn's 'oooh, you!' look, but went to her trunk for the clothes she would wear that day. Ardeth leaned back, thoroughly enjoying the view.  
  
"I would ask if you plan to get dressed as well," his wife said, her head still bent over her trunk, "but I know better. You know, I actually timed you once. . .it takes you two minutes to get into your robes and trousers." Ardeth laughed outright, laughing again when his wife stuck his tongue out at him as she headed into the bathroom to change clothes. During the last four months, it became a running joke. Celia often teased him about how handy the black Med-jai robes were. They hid dirt, blood (at least up to a point), and there was the intimidation factor.  
  
Ardeth countered once that they didn't do a very good job of intimidating her. She simply laughed and replied, "In the beginning, Ardeth, when I first met you, you scared the hell out of me." That surprised him. . .it hurt a little, that he ever frightened this woman, even a little. Then she smiled at him, her hazel eyes twinking with laughter, and added, "Besides, I know now that under these layers of robes is a sweet, loving man."  
  
Ardeth had a mock-indignant retort handy, right up until the time she kissed him. At that point, all thoughts flew right out of his head. Ardeth shook his head, still smiling, and got out of bed. He found his clean robes and trousers, dressing quickly, then moved to find his boots. The dizziness hit then, swamping over him. He clutched at the side of the bed, trying desperately to keep from falling over.  
  
He fought it with every fiber of his being, as he fought every other enemy he encountered in his life. And he didn't even realize that Celia returned to the room, until she gave a little cry, and he felt her arms go around him. She whispered, "Ardeth, are you all right? Maybe we should wait another day, and just stay in our room." Ardeth allowed his head to fall against her shoulder, not strong enough to fight this alone.  
  
He didn't answer at first, but as the dizziness receded, he replied, "La. We should go now. I will be fine." He pulled back, to look into his wife's dear, concerned face. She didn't like it. He could see that she didn't like it, and Ardeth said softly, "Please, Celia. I have not the energy to fight with O'Connell again." Celia exhaled slowly, and nodded. She still didn't like it, but she would agree. Ardeth put his arm around her and whispered, "Shukran, my love. Now go write your note."  
  
. . .  
  
Celia Bey did NOT like this at all. She didn't like the idea of leaving, even with the complication of Rick O'Connell, not when her husband wasn't well. But she also knew that there was a possibility he would improve, once he got away from the tension. Moving quietly, to avoid waking anyone, Celia carried her note for Evy downstairs. No one was even stirring. Thank the goddess.  
  
In the kitchen, she went to the icebox. . .or, as Celia and her fellow Americans called it, the refrigerator. The young queen read over the note she wrote one last time, glancing over her shoulder every few seconds, just to make sure Ardeth was the only one coming. Satisfied that none of the family were waking up, Celia turned her attention back to the letter.  
  
'Dear Evy,' she wrote, 'I'm sorry that we left without saying good- bye, but Ardeth wanted to get an early start. I'm hoping we can stop in London on the way back to Cairo next month, but that will depend on how receptive Ardeth is. He has decided that he's finished trying to win Rick's trust, and quite frankly, I can't blame him. He isn't feeling well. . .I'm hoping once I get him away from the tension, he'll relax. But stay close, Evy. . .I may need you. Your sister-in-law, CFB.'  
  
"It'll do," she murmured, and placed the note on the refrigerator. Or rather, *in* the refrigerator, since she stuck the note between the two doors. She just hoped that it didn't get trampled. She really didn't like leaving without saying good-bye, but maybe she would get the chance to make amends with Evy. At least with her friend, there was that chance. Rick O'Connell was incapable of forgiving, or trusting, anyone but his wife. His loss. Celia shook her head, and went back upstairs.  
  
Halfway up the stairs, Celia sensed Anck's presence, and the Egyptian whispered, though only Celia could hear her, "I would tell you if any of the O'Connells were awake, Celia." The American smiled at her ghostly friend, and Anck continued, "You are worried about Ardeth. As am I. I sensed something strange during the fight yesterday. But I cannot tell you exactly what that something is."  
  
"You mean aside from those Guardians disappearing?" Celia asked, and Anck nodded, looking worried. Sometimes, Celia found it very difficult to reconcile the anxious figure at her side with the woman who did such evil deeds. Her memories. . .or rather, Ardath's memories. . .of Seti were of a harsh man, but one capable of great love. He showed little mercy to his enemies, and great generosity to those whom he loved. In other words, he was a man of his times. . .and certainly no worse than certain leaders of today. Like that frightening little man who was the Chancellor in Germany. Many found him laughable. . .he terrified Celia.  
  
Anck replied, wisely leaving the subjects of Seti and Hitler alone, "Yes, exactly. There are many things I am not permitted to see. Ma'at and Mathayus do not yet trust me. Especially not after what Ardath and I did last night." Celia looked at her companion, raising her eyebrows. Anck actually blushed and said, "I. . .ah. . .well. . .I took my own justice out of that man's hide, as you Americans are so fond of saying."  
  
Celia felt her eyebrows go up even further, but instead of pressing the issue (she had a feeling she didn't want to know), she said, "I understand. This dizzy spell of Ardeth's has me very worried. Rick O'Connell is no longer an issue for me. But until we got to England yesterday, my husband was fine. Last night, he had a terrible headache when he woke up, and then this morning, he had a dizzy spell."  
  
"I know. While you were downstairs, putting the note away, I remained with Ardeth," Anck explained. Celia nodded. That actually didn't surprise her. Anck blushed once more, adding, "If someone told me, even months ago, that I would be so protective of a Med-jai, I would have slit their throats." Celia grinned at that, at the words, and at the tone of voice her friend used, that mix of exasperation and awe.  
  
"Yes, but you no longer see just Ardeth's markings. . .you see him. The man," Celia pointed out as they went up the last few steps. Anck nodded, still looking both puzzled and somewhat annoyed. Anck didn't like caring about people, least of all, caring about them as much as she cared about Celia and Ardeth. It made her vulnerable, and in Anck's time, vulnerability meant weakness. Weakness meant death.  
  
"I do not just see the man. I hear the name. And in my mind's eye, I see the little boy who would race through the corridors of the palace, throwing himself against my legs. He would shout my name, and smear my paint, but I loved that child so much. He was a living reminder of his mother, and I could never hate anyone who had Ardath in him. That little boy had hazel eyes, just like her," Anck replied.  
  
"And from what I've been told, that first Ardeth Bey grew up to look just like his father, with whispers of his mother," Celia countered with a smile. Anck looked at her, surprised, and Celia replied, "I've read the ancient scrolls of the Med-jai, Anck. Ardeth Bey had his father's features, his black hair, and his scowl. . .but he had his mother's hazel eyes, and her smile. Unfortunately, the scowl was used more often than his smile."  
  
Anck cast a sly glance toward the room Celia and Ardeth shared the previous night, answering, "Something which cannot be said for his namesake and descendant since his marriage." Celia tried to glower at her friend, knowing that swatting at her would have only resulted in her tumbling down the stairs. But Anck's impish grin made it difficult for Celia to even glower at her.  
  
The American muttered a few choice words under her breath as she entered the room. Ardeth was still pale, but he looked resolute. She wouldn't be able to talk him out of this. Damn. So, instead of complaining, Celia smiled at him and said, "Ready to go, love?" He inclined his head, but it didn't ease her worries any. If anything, it increased her anxiety tenfold. But she knew her husband.  
  
"I am ready," Ardeth answered quietly. Oh, this definitely was not good. Since their marriage, his sense of humor came out more frequently, with him often teasing her about her American colloquialisms. If he was feeling well, he would have fired back with a remark like, 'as you or O'Connell would say, I'm ready whenever you are.' That was something else she noticed, though.  
  
Ardeth did use contractions, on occasion. Evy told her of their first trip with Izzy, when they were heading to Ahm Shere to rescue Alex. Ardeth took one look at the dirigible and asked with no small amount of exasperation, "Why can't you people ever keep your feet on the ground?" Celia barely stifled a laugh at that, knowing how much her husband hated to fly. She learned that during the trip to Hamunaptra, to rescue Miranda from Khaldun.  
  
So yes, her husband did use less than perfect English grammar. And yet, strangely enough, he used that less than perfect English when he was feeling one hundred percent. . .or, at least ninety-five percent. However, the worse he felt, the more correct his English became. She smiled at him, forcing her anxiety back, and said, "Well. . .in that case, I believe we have a train to catch."  
  
He smiled back, but his heart wasn't in it. Celia picked up her bags, making sure they didn't cover her staff, and Ardeth picked up his own. Celia sensed Anck's anxiety, and realized that the other members of the household were starting to stir. *In that case,* she thought grimly, *to borrow one of the phrases O'Connell is so fond of. . .time to go!*  
  
"Then catch a train, we will," Ardeth agreed, picking up his own bag. Traveled lightly, her husband did. As they quietly left the room, silently making their way down the stairs and slipping from the house, Ardeth waited until they were outside before he asked very quietly, "Celia? Explain exactly why it is termed 'catching a train,' if you please?" Celia grinned at her husband as she flagged down a cab.  
  
"I'll see if I can explain it on the way, love. And see. . .I got a cab for us, instead of a double-decker bus," she teased gently. Ardeth just groaned at this reminder of the last time he was in London. Celia laughed and gently pulled her husband into the cab, telling the driver, "The train station, please. And don't be alarmed by my husband's appearance. He'll only hurt you if you give him reason."  
  
Neither the husband nor the wife saw the curtains part on the second floor of the O'Connell house. Nor did they see a small boy's face peek through. Celia's only focus was on her husband, and on getting where they were going. The O'Connells were on the bottom of her priority list. 


	5. Prices to be Paid

Sailor Elf: Why are you screaming? Ummm. . .because I'm a really good writer, who made you believe, if only briefly, that all those terrible things really did happen to Ardeth? (raises eyebrows questioningly)  
  
Deana: I know. Those scenes made me cry, too, while I was writing them. Our beautiful Med-jai isn't quite out of danger yet, though.  
  
Dawn: 'Ello, m'dear! I'm glad you're enjoying the story, and I'll properly respond to your email in a bit, when I don't feel like I've been hit by a Mack truck!  
  
Part Four  
  
Alex O'Connell had no idea what woke him. The previous night, Uncle Jon came to the boarding school and told the headmaster that there was a family emergency. Alex was needed at home. Because they knew Uncle Jon, the headmaster allowed him to go. On the drive home, Alex learned that there was an attack on his Mum, an attack stopped by Ardeth and Auntie Celia.  
  
His mum was fine, but Dads blamed Ardeth for the attack. Uncle Jon was afraid that Ardeth would leave and they would never see him again. He wanted Alex's help in convincing their friend to stay. Now, the boy watched in silence as Auntie Celia flagged a cab. Alex hesitated, not knowing what to do, then his mouth firmed. He slipped down from the window and out of his room, down the hall to his parents' room.  
  
He shook his mum, whispering, "Mum. . .Mum!" He waited until her eyes opened, then continued, "Mum, Auntie Celia and Ardeth just left, you gotta bring them back!" He meant 'you' in general, not that his mother should go after them herself. She would have a baby any day now, and Dad would never allow her to go. Her eyes slid shut, but Alex shook her again, saying, "Mum! Ardeth needs you!"  
  
That woke her up. She sat up, and Alex repeated what he saw. His mother's eyes widened and she slid from the bed. Mum went to the guest bedroom, swearing rather impressively when she found the room empty, and the bed made. Mum whispered, "Damn you both, why couldn't you wait! Rick would have apologized this morning!" She left the room, probably to wake Dads, and Alex scampered downstairs.  
  
He went to the kitchen, where he noticed something odd about the refrigerator. Drawing closer, he found a piece of paper, with Mum's name on it. Alex pulled it out and opened it, recognizing his aunt's writing immediately. What he found there made his eyes widen, and he ran out of the kitchen, back up the stairs to his parents' room. For once, he didn't bother knocking as he burst inside, crying, "Mum, Dad. . . Ardeth's sick!"  
  
Mum, who was in the middle of a conversation with Dads, turned toward him. Seeing the piece of paper in Alex's hand, she pulled it away, reading it quickly. Alex watched as his mother's face turned ashen, and she whispered, "Celia didn't want to leave today. She tried to convince him to stay, but he refused. Rick, you have to go after them, Ardeth isn't well, and he shouldn't be traveling."  
  
Dad started to protest, but Mum fixed him with a Look, hissing, "You swore to me last night that you would make things right with him today, Rick O'Connell. He left to avoid any more unpleasantness, because he felt unwelcome here. Are you really going to let your pride get the better of you now, when Ardeth needs you most? Must I remind you of the dreams we both had last night?" Unexpectedly, Alex's father went white.  
  
"They have taken a train," an unexpected voice said. Everyone turned to see Anck-su-namun. Alex shouldn't have been surprised, not with her attitude toward Auntie Celia. It seemed like she was never far away. Least of all when she thought Auntie Celia might need her. She seemed to care for Ardeth as well, which Alex found a bit strange. Then again, he found it very strange that she was even on their side now.  
  
Anck-su-namun continued, "They have taken a train, and as Celia said, Ardeth is ill. More ill than he will acknowledge. Earlier, as Celia dressed, he had a dizzy spell." This made both of Alex's parents pale. Mum looked at Dads, and in that moment, Alex saw his father's attitude change. His expression grew determined, and Anck-su-namun added, "Make haste, O'Connell, and remember. . .they travel to Scotland."  
  
"I'm on my way. Evy, stay here, in case Celia calls you. Alex, look after your mother. Anck-su-namun. . .take care of them both until I get there," Dads replied. The ghost merely inclined her head, before fading out altogether, and Dads finished dressing.  
  
He leaned over and kissed Mum on the cheek, though this was one time when Alex wouldn't have minded seeing his parents kiss. It would have meant things were normal, and the little boy was desperately afraid right now. Mum whispered, "Don't come back without them, Rick, please. You heard what she said. Ardeth needs us, and we can't let him down again." Dads nodded determinedly and left the room.  
  
Moments later, Alex heard the roar of Dad's new car. Mum sat down on the bed, wrapping a blanket around hersef, and looking as afraid as Alex felt. The little boy took his mother's hand, and Mum smiled at him. A half second later, her eyes narrowed as she asked, "Alex? Not that I'm not happy to see you, of course. . .but what are you doing home? You should be in school, sweetheart."  
  
Alex flashed his mother a guilty smile, and as he had more than six months earlier, replied, "Mum, I can explain everything!"  
  
. . .  
  
Ardeth hoped that once he was away from the tense O'Connell house, he would feel better. He did not. If anything, he felt worse. Part of it was guilt, of course. He should have said a proper good-bye to Evelyn, regardless of what O'Connell thought of him. He shuddered as the cab bumped along, and felt Celia's cool hand on his warm face. She murmured, "Hang on, darlin,' we're almost there."  
  
She did not say, 'I told you so,' for which Ardeth was extremely grateful. She had every right to say that, and he knew it. He whispered, "I am sorry, Celia. I should have listened to you." He fought back a moan as a sharp pain sliced through his chest. Gods, what was happening to him? He was burning up with fever, his chest ached, as did his head. In fact, he felt as he did after the explosion at Hamunaptra.  
  
A voice said, "'E's not gonna be sick, is 'e, ma'am?" Ardeth would have smiled, if he felt better. When the cabbie picked them up in front of the O'Connell house, Celia bundled him inside, then put the bags at her own feet. The cabbie, blessedly, gave her no difficulty about Ardeth's presence, though the chieftain was sure his own weakened condition might have had something to do with that.  
  
"I hope not. I don't think so, though. You've been very helpful, sir. . .I thank you for that," Celia said softly. Her hand slipped from his cheek to his hair. Ardeth sighed, taking pleasure in the small comforts. They did nothing to alleviate how badly he felt, but they did give him a different focus.  
  
"Oh, it's no problem, ma'am! I served in the French Legion, and I knew men like yer husband," the cabbie replied. He paused, adding, "And a Yank saved me life in the Great War. I could tell by yer accent ye was a Yank." Ardeth heard his wife laugh and the cabbie continued, "So where are ye headed to, ma'am, if ye don't me me askin' ye? If ye ask me, yer husband oughta be in a hospital where they kin take care of him."  
  
"You're probably right," Celia sighed, "but my husband is a very stubborn man, and he refuses to go to a hospital. They make him uncomfortable. We're heading to Scotland, which is where my people come from." Along with Ardeth's, though that was three thousand years in the past. Celia continued, "We were supposed to stay with some friends for a few days, but we had a falling out with my friend's husband."  
  
She paused, and Ardeth opened his eyes to see the cabbie peering at her invitingly. Celia sighed, then said, "You see, my friend is a wonderful lady, and I love her very much. . .but she tends to anger the wrong people. My husband and I interrupted a potential attack, and instead of being grateful, my friend's husband blamed Ardeth."  
  
"Blimey! Pardon me language, ma'am, but that ain't right! Ardeth, heh? That ain't a name I heard in that part o' the world," the cabbie said. The chieftain managed a weak smile. However, it cost him. As another pain tore through his chest, Ardeth no longer had the energy to fight his moans of pain. The cabbie added anxiously, "Ma'am, I ain't gonna tell ye what to do, but I don't think yer man's in any condition to travel."  
  
Celia replied, "My husband is descended from an Egyptian prince and his Scottish concubine. Her name was originally 'Eavan,' but she was renamed 'Ardath' by the Hebrew slaves who raised her. My husband's name is a variation. And my husband is six foot two, one of his people's finest warriors, and at half-strength, he's still stronger than me. Would *you* tell him that he can't do something?" The cabbie roared with laughter. Celia added, "Ardeth, darlin,' we're almost to the train station." Despite the intense pain, that gave Ardeth the strength he needed to sit up and open his eyes.  
  
"Well, best of luck to ye both. And yer Majesty, next time ye oughta listen to yer wife," the cabbie suggested. Your Majesty? The cabbie added, "A man de-scended from royalty oughta be a king. Yer Ladyship, take good care a' him, and if ye ever need a ride, name's Ben York." He got out and opened the door for Ardeth and Celia, helping Ardeth out. The Med-jai managed a shaky nod, though he immediately regretted that.  
  
"Thank you, Ben. My name is Celia F. . .I mean, Celia Bey. . .just in case I do need to call on you again," his wife replied. Ardeth leaned against the cab, squeezing his eyes shut as the dizziness increased. By now, the dizziness was accompanied by waves of nausea. He would have said good-bye to his pride in that moment, and gone back to the O'Connell house. . .except he didn't think he would manage the return trip.  
  
"Celia Bey, it was a pleasure. Here, I'll take care of them bags. . .yer husband needs help," came the cabbie's response. Ardeth felt Celia's arm slip around his waist, and he readied himself to move. He forced his eyes open, almost groaning at the distance to the ticket counter. The good news was, public privies weren't that far away. He could splash cold water on his face, maybe that would help.  
  
"Thanks, Ben. Ardeth. . .why don't you wait there, while I get the tickets?" Celia suggested. With an effort, Ardeth turned his head in the direction Celia was indicating. Thank the gods. She meant the public privies. Ardeth nodded, grimacing at the motion. Not a wise move. The next time he did that, one of two things would happen. Either he would get sick, or his head would fall off. Celia told Ben, "If you wouldn't mind, could you leave the luggage with my husband, and I'll go get the tickets?"  
  
"Do better than that, ma'am. I can wait with yer husband. Don't think he oughta be left alone," Ben replied. Ardeth wasn't looking forward to that, either, and Celia agreed. As they reached the building, Celia gently lowered Ardeth to the ground, and Ben circled the bags around him. Ardeth bit his lip to keep from making any noise. His muscles ached, but he wanted to avoid worrying his wife further.  
  
Celia kissed him, murmuring that she would be right back. Ardeth nodded, keeping his eyes open until she left, then he slumped against the doorway. Mercifully, Ben didn't talk as he did when Celia was around. He only spoke once, saying, "Ye got a damn fine woman, yer Majesty. Reminds me a' me wife, God rest her soul. A damn fine woman indeed." And he didn't take it personally when Ardeth made no answer.  
  
Celia was back almost immediately, saying, "We missed the morning train, Ardeth, and they don't sell tickets for the afternoon train yet." Damn his weakness! Celia turned to Ben and said, "Thank you so much for your help, Ben. I'll take it from here." Ardeth forced his eyes open as his wife shook hands with the cabbie. Ben, a man who looked to be in his sixties, turned Celia's wrist to kiss the back of her hand.  
  
"Was my pleasure. If ye ever get back to the States, and find yerself in Albany, look up Robert Tisdale, and tell 'im that Ben York sent ye," the cabbie replied. He looked at Ardeth, tipping his cap, and said, "And ye best let yer Lady take care of ye, yer Majesty." The Med-jai nodded wearily, and the cabbie was on his way. The couple looked at each other, then Ardeth took a deep breath, wincing at the pain in his chest.  
  
"I will return shortly, Celia," he said hoarsely. Celia's dark eyes narrowed, and Ardeth explained, "I wish to splash cold water on my face."  
  
Now she frowned, and looked around. Then she smiled in understanding. She took his hand, lightly kissing his palm, and replied, "I'll be here when you get back, love. Imagine, of all the cabbies in London, we get one who served in the Legion!" The Legion, where O'Connell served. But Ardeth only smiled wearily at his wife. He slid his hand from her grasp, then slowly and painfully made his way into the interior.  
  
Moving like an old man, Ardeth made his way to the sink. It was then that a new pain tore through him. Ardeth doubled over with a gasp, feeling as if his insides were physically torn out. He hung onto the sink, now very aware that he made a mistake in leaving the O'Connell house. This last spasm wiped out much of his remaining reserves of energy, but he still had to return to Celia. With an effort, he straightened up, to make his way back outside. There was a roaring in his ears, and his vision was growing grayer.  
  
The few steps which led him back outside, and to Celia, seemed like the entire distance across the Sahara. And as he stumbled toward his wife, the last of his strength left him. He saw Celia's worried face and tried to smile reassuringly, but his legs gave out, and he collapsed. He heard his wife cry out his name, and felt her arms encircle his waist, but Ardeth was unconscious before he hit the ground.  
  
. . .  
  
For the first five minutes after he left home, Rick O'Connell was driven by a mixture of fear and an overwhelming desire to pound Ardeth Bey into the ground. What the hell was that idiot thinking, leaving when he wasn't well? Of all the stupid-ass stunts to pull, that was probably the most stupid-ass stunts Rick ever knew Ardeth to pull. He expected that from Jonathan, but not from Ardeth, of all people.  
  
But as he drove along, fear overpowered the anger. Ardeth was sick, and when you were sick, or badly hurt, you didn't think clearly. Rick knew how stubborn Ardeth could be. He hurt Ardeth deeply with his rash accusations, and he should have expected this quiet departure. In a twisted way, it actually made sense. Ardeth wanted to avoid any more confrontations, and wanted to avoid causing trouble between the O'Connells.  
  
As he drove, the continuing refrain of 'I was going to apologize,' was replaced by, 'he didn't know that.' Ardeth didn't know about the dreams Rick and Evy had, he knew only that Rick blamed him for the attack against Evy and the baby. Under normal circumstances, Ardeth would have brushed it off. But for some reason, Ardeth's patience snapped. Maybe it was because he chose to interrupt his honeymoon to aid Rick's wife.  
  
And how did Rick repay him? By stabbing him in the back. Rick decided that he was lucky Ardeth was different from his brother. . .because even if Andreas Bey let him live, that little stunt would have earned Rick a few well-placed punches. He shook his head as he pulled into the train station, muttering, "Please let me get there in time, please let Ardeth be all right." *If only to give me the opportunity to choke the living shit out of him for scaring me like this,* Rick added mentally.  
  
He drew to a stop behind a cab, and raced out without even bothering to check for traffic. Ticket counter. . .there. Rick sprinted the distance to the ticket counter, rasping out, "The morning train for Scotland, when does it leave?" He ignored the dirty looks he received from other passengers. . .they didn't matter. Ardeth mattered, and making sure he didn't leave before Rick apologized for being such an ass.  
  
The response he got made his head snap around as the clerk said, "The morning train for Scotland left forty-five minutes ago, sir." All the blood drained from Rick's face. He was too late. Oh God. He was too late. Rick actually felt dizzy, and staggered out of the line. A god was laughing at him. Ardeth was gone. And there was no guarantee that he would even want to see the O'Connells when he returned to England.  
  
"I'm sorry, Ardeth. . .God, I'm so sorry," Rick mumbled, feeling sick. He closed his eyes, swaying on his feet. A memory flashed through his mind. . .Evy in the back seat of a black car, speeding away. A cloth covering her mouth and a curtain falling shut. His son crying out to him, Ardeth Bey right behind him like a dark guardian. The rage he felt when he saw Ardeth, prompting him to grab his best friend's collar, swing him around and slam him into the pedestal, yelling, 'what the hell are you doing here?'  
  
If Ardeth was here, something terrible happened, and Rick just couldn't accept that his family would once more play a part in the end of the world. He ignored the soft grunt of pain drawn from Ardeth at the forceful shove, because he didn't want to hear it. Didn't want to believe that this man put his life on the line to protect Rick's family, because if Rick's family was in danger, then it was Ardeth's fault.  
  
But of course, it wasn't. It wasn't Ardeth's fault that Rick's family couldn't stay away from trouble. He repeated, stumbling through the crowd, "I'm so sorry. I know you were just trying to protect us, trying to protect your people. I'm sorry." He had to get to the bathroom. . .he was sure he would throw up, and he really didn't want to do it in public. He didn't know everyone to know just how badly he failed his best friend.  
  
He stumbled into the men's public restroom and into a stall, falling to his knees. The first spasm hit as his knees connected with the hard cement, but nothing came up. Rick remained there for several moments, retching. When the spasms finally ended, he leaned against the stalls, blinking back tears which he forcefully told himself were from the retching. The truth was, he didn't want to go home without Ardeth or Celia. Evy would never forgive him, and truthfully, Rick wouldn't forgive himself any time soon.  
  
But he couldn't stay here forever. Reluctantly, he got up and flushed the toilet, then opened the door. He was the only one in here, thank God, and he staggered to the sink. He splashed cold water on his face until he felt human again. Rick straightened up and took a deep breath, wiping his wet hands on his trousers. He had to get back to the house. . .Celia might have called before the train departed.  
  
But as he left the men's restroom, he heard a voice. . .a woman's voice. She was crying. Rick looked to his right, the source of the voice, actually afraid of what he would find. And when his eyes landed on the small woman kneeling on the ground, a still form in black cradled against her body, Rick almost moaned aloud. She didn't see him yet, but he saw the tears on her face as Celia Bey called out, "Help, someone, please?"  
  
"Celia!" Rick cried out, rushing over to her. Her head jerked up, and to Rick's eternal shame, the gaze that greeted him wasn't angry, but relieved. Rick did this, and she was relieved to see him. But Rick pushed those feelings away, kneeling beside Ardeth, and pressed the back of his hand to Ardeth's forehead, jerking it away. He asked, gently gathering his friend in his arms, "What happened, he's burning up?"  
  
"He collapsed. He. . .he. . .I knew he wasn't feeling well, and I asked him if he wanted to go back, but he wouldn't. He. . .we missed the train, and I thought we could wait until it was time to buy tickets for the later one. He. . .he went into the bathroom, to wash his face, but when he came out, he just collapsed. I couldn't get anyone to help me, Rick, I couldn't call you and Evy," Celia replied, her voice breaking.  
  
Rick asked nothing more. He just carefully lifted Ardeth, painfully aware that Ardeth didn't even moan when he was moved. Celia scrambled to her feet, gathering the luggage. Rick didn't ask if she was coming. . .he knew better. With a grim expression, he made his way through the crowd. Passengers and their families parted to make room for the enraged American with the small young woman scrambling behind him.  
  
Once they reached the car, Rick ordered, "Drop the bags. Open the door, and get in." Celia, amazingly, didn't argue with him. She did exactly what she was told, dropping the bags on the curb beside the car, opened the door, and quickly slid in. Now came the tricky part. . .easing Ardeth into the car and into her arms. Ardeth was a dead weight in his arms, but Rick managed to lower his friend to the seat.  
  
Celia put her arms around Ardeth, drawing him against her own body. Rick slid his legs sideways, then put the bags at his feet. That done, he slammed the door and got inside. Nothing more was said, except Celia quietly murmuring to Ardeth. What was happening to him, why was he like this? Rick was silent on the drive back, and much to his relief as he pulled into the driveway, Jonathan was outside, ready to help. Would wonders never cease. Rick pulled the car all the way up to the entrance of the house.  
  
Jonathan paled when he saw Ardeth, but only asked, "What can I do?" Rick didn't bother with words. Instead, he opened the back door and handed the bags to Jonathan, before lifting Ardeth into his arms. His brother-in- law gasped, "Oh dear God. EVY! Alex!" Evy came out, her mouth opening at the sight of her brother cradled in Rick's arms. Jonathan carried the bags inside, following behind Rick.  
  
The American glanced over his shoulder, as his wife helped Celia out of the car. Evy called, "Get him upstairs to his room, Rick. Celia, darling, I'll be right back." Rick nodded, and ahead of him, he saw an anxious-looking Anck-su-namun. But he passed through the ghost, unwilling to grant her the courtesy of moving around her. He had Ardeth, and Anck-su- namun should have been doing something.  
  
But his true anger was saved for himself. As Rick reached the last step, then carried Ardeth into his room, he began to pray. He wasn't sure who would hear his prayers, but he had to ask Whoever was listening to help. He eased Ardeth onto the bed, bending down remove Ardeth's sash, then his boots to make him more comfortable. That done, Rick sat down beside his friend, putting his hand on Ardeth's shoulder. He wanted Ardeth to know that he was here and everything would change.  
  
. . .  
  
Lady Ardath stared down at the scene before her, shivering. It was her plan to shock Rick O'Connell into thinking first. She wanted him to grow up, and be a father worthy of her Miriam. But this. . .this was something else entirely. She whispered, even as she felt her lover's hands cupping her shoulders, **What is happening to him, Rameses?** He pulled her against his body, gently kissing the side of her head.  
  
**This is the doing of the Guardians,** Rameses answered grimly, **when they first arrived in London.** Ardath closed her eyes, remembering the fight in question. One of the Guardians grazed her child's palm with his dagger. Her eyes flew open as it hit her, and she turned in his arms to face Rameses. Her beloved nodded, adding, **Yes, my Ardath. The blade was poisoned.**  
  
Ardath actually felt dizzy at that moment, and Rameses released her shoulders to cup her face in his hands. She whispered numbly, though she feared the answer, **What part did we play in this, my Rameses? I only wanted Rick O'Connell to stop lashing out at our child, stop taking him for granted. Did we. . . did our plans have anything to do with this?** Rameses leaned forward, gently kissing her forehead.  
  
**No, my love. Remember. The Guardians belong to Horus and Isis. I think it is very likely that these plans have been in the making since my sister's reincarnation went on that last expedition, and recovered the Necklace. We merely pushed the schedule up last night. Indeed, my love. . .our plotting may have saved Ardeth's life, for it was guilt which drove O'Connell out here today,** Rameses answered.  
  
Ardath stepped closer to her beloved, wrapping her arms around his waist. They were not here long. They knew that more than six months passed since their reunion, in the mortal world, but to them, it was a mere breath. At least until they watched the lives of the mortals, and then it seemed that time slowed down. By going to the Place In-Between, time slowed down further.  
  
The visions which they showed to the O'Connells, plus Jonathan Carnahan, were but a small sample. There were several variations on a theme, but the result was the same. Disaster for her daughter's new family. She whispered against Rameses' shoulder, **I still do not understand. O'Connell is not like Meela. . .but he is still very different from Terumun. Experiences leave a mark on our souls, I understand, but. . .**  
  
Rameses sighed and answered, **Even in our time, love, Terumun was thus. He was just much better at hiding it, because the Med-jai were his life. That is what separates O'Connell from Terumun. Not because their basic personality is different, for it is not. Their basic personality is the same. . .just as yours and Celia's are the same, just as Nefertiri and Evelyn's personalities are the same. The difference, my love, is in the scope. Terumun simply had a wider scope to those whom he loved than O'Connell.**  
  
Rameses tightened his arms around her waist, adding, **And in the end, O'Connell is learning, my Ardath. He now sees what his world would be like, without Ardeth. He sees what could have happened. And now, he is committed to making things right with the boy, just as we hoped he would be.** Ardath nodded a bit numbly and she turned in Rameses' arms once more, so that she was once more facing the mortals.  
  
O'Connell sat beside her child, carefully removing his boots and sash. Ardath sensed the American's alarm. Her child did not awaken even briefly. He made no movement, not even a sound, when O'Connell picked him up at the train station. The concubine knew her namesake and descendant was in a coma, deeply unconscious. But still, she whispered, **I know you are right, my love. I just. . .hate to see him suffer.**  
  
Her voice broke on the last two words. She pressed one hand to her mouth, tears smarting in her eyes. Rameses said nothing, just held her. She knew it was difficult for him, because he saw the same things she did. Not in the same way, of course, but it was difficult to simply observe and never get involved. This was the hard part of her afterlife, marring an otherwise joyous existence. It was always so. Through the years, before her rebirths, Ardath watched and waited, and mourned when one of her children suffered. But it was most painful, watching this young man struggle through life.  
  
Perhaps it was his breathtaking resemblance to both her beloved and to the son she bore only days before her death, but this Ardeth Bey was always special to her. He carried her name, a variation at least. This beautiful, compassionate, fierce young man who was the same as a little boy. After her own death, Ardath found it hard to come back to her family. Of course, in those early years, she was bound to her own crypt.  
  
It took almost fifteen mortal years for her to find a way to pass the walls of the crypt, and by that time, there was little of her Rameses remaining. But Ardath could not abandon him, any more than she could abandon their son. By this time, Ardeth was almost a young man, and raising his little sister Paziyah. So, she was denied the chance to see her child grow up. It wasn't until this century that Ardath found her second chance.  
  
**I hate to see him suffer as well. And like you, my love,** Rameses added, **I see his pain even through his unconsciousness. But you know once this test is done, he will be fine.** That was what worried Ardath, more than anything. Rameses knew this as well, for he knew that the test wasn't one which their distant grandchild needed to pass. . .but it was a test for the loud-mouthed American who denied what he was.  
  
And because Rameses knew what frightened her, Ardath chose not to reply. Instead, she concentrated on the agony rippling through her child's body. The fever mounted, even as Rick O'Connell called for water and ice to cool him down. In Ardeth's anguished mind, too, the concubine saw clearly. It was a mess of images. . .his father's death when he was thirteen, throwing his young life into chaos, among other things.  
  
Rameses saw as well and murmured, **The son becomes the father, and the father is reborn yet again.** Ardath nodded. Suleiman Bey was the reincarnation of their son Ardeth. With his death twenty years earlier, in mortal thinking, another cycle began. This time, he was reborn far away from the Med-jai, the gods providing him with a holiday of sorts. A similar holiday awaited Ardeth after this lifetime.  
  
**Tell me truthfully, Rameses, for you have never answered this question. In the years after. . .after everything went wrong. In the lifetimes your reincarnations would not acknowledge their love for mine. . .was Terumun your brother in fact? Are there more reasons why our child refers to O'Connell as his brother?** Ardath asked bluntly. Rameses chuckled, and it was all Ardath could do to keep from elbowing him.  
  
**Yes, my love. Just as Nefertiri was my sister in some lives, Terumun was my brother in others. The sons of the same father, or the same mother. There is another reason. He is the Med-jai of the West, as Ardeth mentioned,** Rameses explained. Ardath nodded, remembering the conversation in front of the British Museum, resisting the temptation to knock Rick O'Connell into the next century (the next millenium as well). 'I am a stranger traveling from the East, seeking that which is lost.'  
  
**I know, Rameses, but what I do not understand is what that means. For all my conversations with Sennefer, and other Med-jai, they never explained exactly what the Med-jai of the West was,** Ardath answered. She heard in her memory, the answer from O'Connell, 'I am a stranger traveling from the West, it is I whom you seek.' And it was then that her struggle not to knock O'Connell into the next century became truly strong.  
  
Rameses hesitated, then replied, **Completion, love. You are from the West, and I am from the East. You complete me. It is the same with Ardeth and Rick. They cannot fight alone. They must stand beside each other, or all is lost. It is the final part of the curse unleashed by Hamadi Bey. It means things have come full circle, just as Garai thought. Imhotep had to rise a third time, in order for the curse to be broken.**  
  
But Ardath was seeing something else. . .another thread in the tapestry. She murmured, **Completion. . .full circle. Rameses, among the Chinese, there is a concept, known as yin and yang. Balance. O'Connell returning to the Med-jai is a return to that balance, the return of something they lost years ago. But the question is. . .what? Why is O'Connell so very important, and what does our child see that we do not?**  
  
. . .  
  
Down below, in the world of the mortals, all hell just broke loose. Actually, that happened earlier, as soon as an incensed Evy awoke Jonathan, wondering just why he found it necessary to bring her son home from boarding school. Though only half-awake, Jonathan retorted that he thought it best if Alex was home. . .after all, did Evy want to explain to her son during his next return home that she almost died?  
  
Maybe because he was only barely awake, he reacted more vehemently than he would have usually, but dash it all, he was trying to help! Evy promptly burst into tears. That had the effect of making Jonathan feel like a louse, and while trying to comfort his sister, Jonathan learned that Alex spotted Celia and Ardeth leaving this morning. Evy was desperately worried about Ardeth, who was likely ill.  
  
Jonathan, knowing how badly Evy handled fear when there was nothing she could do, forgave her. He packed her off to the kitchen, to drink some tea, set Alex up as a sentinel, and got dressed. Not even a half hour later, Alex screamed, "MUM! UNCLE JON! They're back!" Jonathan almost tripped over a chair, unable to shake the feeling that he would be needed. Never mind if he was out of the house before Rick pulled up. Never mind, because he was right about Rick needing help. . .he saw that immediately.  
  
Jonathan gulped when he saw Ardeth in the backseat. . .he didn't look good. . .but all he asked was, "What can I do to help?" Rick opened the back door and handed the bags to Jonathan, before lifting Ardeth into his arms. His friend's head lolled back, and Jonathan gasped, "Oh dear God. EVY! Alex!" He grabbed the bags, moving out of Rick's way. His brother- in-law was in his mission mode, and it was best not to interfere.  
  
At the same time, Evy left the kitchen and joined them outside, Alex hovering at her side anxiously. While Jonathan knew Evy wanted to help Ardeth, her eyes focused on Celia. Ardeth's wife still sat numbly in the back of the car. Her eyes narrowed, as they always did when she had a purpose. Knowing that Celia would be in good hands, Jonathan carried the bags inside, following Rick.  
  
Evy was still helping Celia out of the car, her arm wrapped supportively around her waist. Alex took up position on the other side, taking Celia's hand. As they drew the ashen-faced young woman inside, Evy called, "Get him upstairs to his room, Rick. Celia, darling, I'll be right back. Alex, stay with Auntie Celia. Get her anything she needs."  
  
Just ahead of him, Jonathan saw Rick nod, but his attention was focused solely on getting Ardeth to a bed. Jonathan inhaled a little, seeing a familiar figure in front of him. His companion from the previous night, an anxious-looking Anck-su-namun. Rick must have seen her as well, but he passed right through her, as if she wasn't even there. She bit her lower lip, and Jonathan could tell she was fighting back tears. He didn't want to feel sorry for her. But Jonathan knew how much she grew to love Ardeth.  
  
Jonathan set the bags down just inside the room which Celia and Ardeth shared the previous night, asking softly, "What do you need?" Rick didn't answer, as he was removing Ardeth's clothes. An inappropriate comment came to Jonathan's mind, but he kept it to himself. This was neither the time nor the place, and judging from Rick's expression, the American would clobber him if he did say something.  
  
"Some ice. . .water. . .anything like that. He never woke up, Jonathan. He's burning up with fever. . .he never even moaned when I picked him up," Rick rambled. It was like he wasn't even there, because in the very next minute, Rick added, "Hold off on the cold stuff. . .I need help with these damn robes of his." Jonathan darted over to the bed, and Rick muttered, "Hold him."  
  
Hold him, indeed. . .the words brought back unpleasant memories of Hamunaptra. But it was that memory which prompted Jonathan to slide behind Ardeth on the bed and ease him into a sitting position. His blood ran cold. As Rick said, Ardeth made not a sound. . .not even a whimper. Jonathan firmly grasped his shoulders, allowing Rick to remove the robes. Jonathan almost yelped when he realized that the Med-jai robes were soaked with sweat. . .no doubt, the result of the fever.  
  
"What can I do to help, Dads?" Alex asked from the door way. He swallowed hard, seeing the unconscious chieftain slumped against Jonathan while Rick finished removing the robes. Now Ardeth was down to only his trousers. Alex whispered, "He looks terrible. Like he did after the Mummy Warrior hurt him." The Mummy Warrior on the double decker bus. Jonathan wanted to smile, but found he couldn't.  
  
"Alex, I need you to go into the bathroom and wet a washcloth. Make it as cold as you can. Ardeth is burning up, and we have got to bring his fever down," Rick said tersely. The little boy bobbed his head once and raced into the bathroom, grateful to have any job, no matter how small. Jonathan could relate. It was then that Evy appeared in the door, one hand resting on her belly and the other in the small of her back.  
  
Rick asked, glancing up briefly as he helped Jonathan to ease Ardeth down, "Evy, sweetheart, do we have any ice downstairs?" When she nodded, he continued, "Great. We may need it. What about Celia, where is she, where did you leave her?" Evy didn't answer at first, and Jonathan looked up to see her eyes focused solely on Ardeth. Her lips were trembling. She looked so scared.  
  
Then Alex burst out of the bathroom, carrying a now-dripping washcloth, and Evy said, "She's downstairs. Anck-su-namun is with her. I should get back to her, the poor thing's in shock." Jonathan almost asked which 'her' was in shock, then remembered whose husband was currently comatose and burning up with fever. The ghost looked rather anxious as well, but that was something entirely different. Jonathan had no doubt part of her anxiety came from her inability to help her friend.  
  
"Before you see to Celia, do me a favor, honey. Take Alex and get a basin. Fill it up with water and ice cubes. That'll help bring the fever down," Rick requested, though it sounded like an order. He looked up from Ardeth, making eye contact with everyone in the room, then said, "We work in shifts. We wash him down, and we keep it up until the fever breaks. We are not, I repeat, are not gonna lose him. Least of all like this."  
  
All nodded, and Rick turned his attention back to Ardeth. His face changed, became softer, and he whispered, "You just rest, buddy. We'll take care of you. . .just concentrate on getting better." Jonathan knew that he wasn't the only one who dreamed of other realities where they faced disaster, and the Englishman was realizing that those dreams hit Rick hard. It hit both Evy and Jonathan hard, but Rick was the wild card.  
  
Which hurt him the most? Seeing Ardeth die in the arms of his older brother, the brother who was so much like Rick? Did he view the reality where Ardeth sacrificed his life to save Evy, only to have her sacrifice her own to save Rick? Did he see the reality where Imhotep rose nearly two decades earlier, enslaving the Med-jai children? Did he see the moment where Imhotep murdered the Med-jai warriors in full view of their children, and then murdered the mothers as well? That one frightened Jonathan.  
  
It frightened Anck-su-namun as well, that alternate reality of 1913. In that dream place, it was much harder for her to hide her emotions. . .and Jonathan saw how badly that reality frightened her. On their anniversary of rebirth, Imhotep gave two gifts to her. One was a young Med- jai boy, who was her personal plaything and eventual downfall. The other was information about her best friend's reincarnation. The latter, of course, was Celia. . .and the former was a thirteen year old Ardeth Bey.  
  
*That didn't come true,* he told himself as he slipped from the room, *that didn't come true, and it won't, either.* Jonathan ignored Rick. . .he wouldn't be needed for a while, after all, and Celia was no doubt out of her mind with sheer terror. This was real. This was true. Ardeth was very ill, yes. . .but he was alive, and every person in this house would fight to make sure he stayed that way.  
  
. . .  
  
She should have been furious with Rick O'Connell, but right now, Anck- su-namun wasn't interested in being angry. Celia was hurting and frightened, and she was Anck's top priority. Now, more than ever, she hated not having a physical body. She wanted to put her arms around Celia, or take her hand, or do something. Her friend desperately needed physical contact, but right now, Anck knew that Ardeth had to take first priority with those in this house with a mortal body.  
  
All except one, it seemed. Jonathan Carnahan made his way downstairs, his eyes focused on Celia. He saw Anck, but only gave her a nod. The ghost bit her lip. It would be a long time before this family trusted her, if ever. . .she gave them no reason in the world to trust her. She killed Seti in full view of his daughter, with help from Imhotep. And then there was the matter of Meela. Her reincarnation killed Evelyn O'Connell, helped to kidnap her as well as her son. And she did it while Anck shared her body.  
  
But it still hurt. Especially since they thought she would hurt Celia. Not even Meela would have done that. Much as Anck hated her reincarnation, she knew that Meela would have never harmed the reincarnation of Ardath. **Are you so sure,** an insidious voice inside her soul whispered, **are you so sure that Meela would have loved Celia, just because you do, Anck-su-namun? You never hated Nefertiri. . .resented her, yes. But you never hated her, never wanted to hurt her. . .and yet, Meela killed her.**  
  
Enough! Jonathan sat down opposite Celia and took her hands, whispering in the ancient tongue, "The circle is closing, my queen." She raised her head to look at him, a weak smile appearing. Anck felt her head snap up at that.  
  
The circle is closing. Earlier, she faded into the Place In-Between, catching part of a conversation between Ardath and Rameses. And a circle was mentioned then. East and West, completion. . .balance. It was a conversation about the strange bond O'Connell had to the Med-jai, why he was so important to them. Anck didn't fully understand herself, but in this, she was not alone. Which was comforting to know.  
  
But those words kept repeating in her head. Completion. . .balance. Things coming full circle. Did her forever friend know something about what was happening to Ardeth? Anck shook her head, distracted. Never mind. She would worry about that later. Instead, she turned her attention back to Celia and Jonathan. The Englishman was quietly holding her friend's hand while Celia choked out the entire story of what happened at the train station, culminating in Rick's arrival.  
  
She knew this story, of course. She was at Celia's side during the journey. Anck didn't leave her until they reached the O'Connell home, and she phased out briefly to the Place In-Between. But that was the only time she left her friend. Even so, Celia's hoarse voice broke her heart as she listened. As her friend fell silent, Jonathan leaned forward and said softly, "Now you listen to me, Cecelia Anne Ferguson Bey. That man is one of the strongest, bravest men I've ever known. He doesn't give up, he doesn't know how."  
  
Celia bobbed her head, and Anck rolled her eyes. Yes, Celia *knew* that she married a strong, brave man. She didn't need Jonathan Carnahan to tell her that. What she needed now, more than anything else, was support, not platitudes! As if hearing her, Jonathan glared in her general direction, then continued, "Right now, I'm more worried about you. I know you've been through hell in the last few hours."  
  
"I'm okay," Celia insisted, though that sounded strained. She bobbed her head and fortunately, Jonathan saw right through her. Anck realized the previous night, while she showed him a different set of what might have beens, that Jonathan was as much of a fool as Nassor was. Not at all. He liked to preserve the expectation that he was a clown and a fool, but there was more to him than that.  
  
Anck smiled briefly. There was a time, before she fell in love with Imhotep, when she was infatuated with Nassor. That was, of course, also before she realized that he would never look at her with desire. But to the end of her life, Nassor remained a good and true friend to her. And like Nefertiri, he picked up the pieces of a world which Anck shattered when she and Imhotep killed Seti. For the first time, she acknowledged that truth. And it was that acknowledgment came a desire to put things to right. There was nothing she could do for anyone else. . .but Ardath's reincarnation *did* need her.  
  
So she concentrated on becoming whole. She wanted a physical body, if only for a few minutes. She would not accept the tainted body and soul of Meela Nais, she would not accept the violation of Evelyn Carnahan O'Connell. She would only accept one thing. . .being able to touch her best friend, her beloved little sister, with her own flesh. It might only work for a few minutes, but she was willing to take that chance.  
  
And so she focused. She focused her rage at Meela Nais, her grief over the loss of her friend, her frustration with Rick O'Connell. She focused her concern for Ardeth and for Celia, her need to earn the forgiveness of Evelyn O'Connell. . .and when she could focus no more, Anck- su-namun reached out and lay her palm against the back of Celia's hand. She gasped when she felt skin connect with skin.  
  
Celia's head jerked up, and she looked at Anck in surprise. The ghost gave her a nervous smile. This was the first time since Hamunaptra that she was able to touch her friend. Celia just stared at her for a few breaths, and during that time, Anck was afraid she went too far. And then. . .Celia smiled at her. It wavered a little bit, but it was a genuine, from-her-heart smile. The living woman curled her fingers around Anck's.  
  
She couldn't sustain this for long. And Anck would end up paying the price later. She knew that. But it was worth it. Worth it to feel some of the tension ease from her friend's body, worth it to see that smile. Celia whispered, once more switching to the old tongue, "Thank you, my friend." And then, she did something that surprised Anck. She lifted the other woman's hand and rested it against her cheek.  
  
Anck swallowed hard, feeling the wetness of Celia's tears, as well as the warmth of her skin. Things she hadn't truly felt in three thousand years. She understood, then, that the relationship between Rick O'Connell and Ardeth Bey would not be the only one mended in this house over the next few days. Until now, Anck hadn't realized that there were also bridges to be mended between herself and Celia.  
  
Unfortunately, as all things must, Anck began to lose that precious contact with her friend. She could have wept when she no longer felt moisture or flesh against the back of her hand, when she no longer felt fingers curled lovingly within her own. But she knew it would happen. She knew that would come, though she tried to prepare herself for the moment when she began to lose her physical reality. It still hurt, however.  
  
This was the price she paid for her crimes, all those years ago. She was denied the gift of being there for her best friend, when she was needed the most. Only now did Anck understand what she cut out of her life, out of her heart, for all these years. Like Rameses, she refused the gift offered by Ardath's reincarnations. Only now, too, did she understand how similar she was to Rick O'Connell and to Terumun, much as she hated to admit it. She bowed her head, whispering in both the old tongue and the new, "Forgive me, my dear sister. Forgive me for despairing, and losing my faith in you."  
  
A gentle smile touched the face of her companion. It was Ardath's smile. . .and Celia's. They were two separate women, separated by three thousand years and countless lifetimes. But their spirits were the same. Perhaps that was why Anck couldn't forgive Meela. They were different women, just as Celia and Ardath were. . .but they were also the same, and Anck feared that Meela was a mirror to her own soul. She was afraid that she had the same greed, the same love for inflicting pain as Meela. Not just on people who hurt her, but anyone who was unfortunate to find themselves in her way.  
  
Anck was told that Meela abandoned Imhotep and killed Evelyn O'Connell, Nefertiri reborn. Ma'at told her that, as did Mathayus. But the self-doubt kept creeping back. Meela was her reincarnation, she had Anck's memories and her spirit. Where was the line between Meela's soul and her own? Anck did not know, and that frightened her. But if she had any doubts, her companion did not.  
  
"Don't you know by now, Anck," Celia whispered, "that I will *always forgive you? There has never been a time, Anck-su-namun, during the last six months, when you failed me. You have never failed to watch my back. There is nothing to forgive, my sister." Anck managed a watery smile as she gazed at her beloved friend, and wondered if Rick O'Connell would find such unquestioning forgiveness when the time came to settle accounts with Ardeth. 


	6. Helping Hands

Part Five  
  
As soon as possible, Rick called a halt and led his wife and son downstairs, where Celia remained with Anck and Jonathan. Evy took her favorite seat, while Alex sat at his mother's feet. During that meeting, it was decided that Rick would take the first shift. Evy protested and Celia gently reminded her that Ardeth wanted her to take care of her child. Evy glowered at her, muttering, "Oooh, I should have known you'd play dirty!"  
  
Celia ignored her and told Rick in a monotone that she would take the next shift. Which meant, despite her relief at the train station, that he wasn't off the hook. Well, he would live with that. Since Evy would take the shortest and less-frequent shifts, Jonathan drew up a schedule. Rick didn't pay much attention. He said what he needed to be said, and now he had work to do. He returned to the bedroom, where Ardeth lay so still.  
  
Now that everyone else knew what they were doing, Rick's priority was taking care of Ardeth. The basin rested beside the bed, but needed more water. Before too much longer, they would need more ice cubes. And once he refilled the basin, Rick went back to work. He was aware of the ghostly presence of Anck-su-namun, who never seemed to be far from Ardeth.  
  
About four hours into tending his friend, Rick had enough, and asked, "You enjoying this, lady?" He looked up from sponging Ardeth's arms, to stare at the ghost. She glared at him, and Rick continued in a cold voice, "He is a Med-jai. . .descendant of the guys who cursed your Imhotep. Figured you would enjoy seeing him all helpless." Now she was virtually trembling with suppressed rage.  
  
"I am enjoying this, O'Connell, as much as you are. Actually, you may be enjoying this more. After all, have you not wished to pay back my nephew's namesake many times, for putting your wife and child into danger?" she fired back. Rick straightened up, glaring at her, but Anck-su-namun continued, "I think you enjoy having him at your mercy, when he can do nothing to defend himself against your attacks!"  
  
Why, that little bitch! An image burst into Rick's mind, of this woman stabbing his wife at Ahm Shere, and Rick started forward. He didn't get too far. . .because the dreams of the previous night returned to haunt him. He saw Meela stabbing Ardeth instead, and just to make sure, Rick looked back at his friend. No. . .no scars under his navel, though there were recent scars on his torso, thanks to Khaldun.  
  
But the image reminded him. Rick shook his head, saying, "Forget it. You're not worth it. And right now, Ardeth needs me." Rick stopped, a curious tightness in his throat. *Ardeth needs me.* He looked at his unconscious friend, seeing the scars from the battle with the Mummy Warrior. This wasn't the first time Ardeth needed him. . .but this would be the first time Rick didn't fail him.  
  
There was a long silence as he dipped the washcloth into the icy basin, squeezed the water out, then began carefully washing Ardeth down again. All the while, he studied Ardeth for any sign of waking. There should have been. The water was damn cold. . .it hurt Rick's hand, just to dip the washcloth into the water. It wasn't being applied to sensitive areas of his naked (or semi-naked) body. Ardeth should be waking up.  
  
But he wasn't, and Rick didn't know what to do about it. He looked at the clock, startled to see that it was almost five pm. Not that he paid much attention. He wasn't really hungry, and besides, he didn't want to leave Ardeth. He dropped the washcloth in the basin for a moment and sat down beside his friend on the bed. Rick groaned as his back popped, then nearly laughed at Anck's disgusted expression.  
  
Then he remembered he wasn't paying attention to her, and looked back at Ardeth. He put his hand on his friend's right shoulder. He couldn't bring himself to touch Ardeth's left shoulder, not when he could still see the scar meant for his wife. He whispered, "C'mon, buddy, time to wake up. Understand? I want you to open your eyes, ask why you're only half- dressed, and start yelling at me. You're your eyes, Ardeth."  
  
"Would that make you feel better, O'Connell?" Anck asked, appearing on the opposite side of the bed. Rick glared at the woman, who continued contemptuously, "It is all about you, is it not? About your family, about your wife, about your child. . .about making you feel better. At what point, O'Connell, do you think of someone other than yourself?" The words hit too close to home for the American, and Rick didn't like that.  
  
"Oh, bite me!" Rick fired back, then tried to ignore her. 'Tried' was the operative word, but the words rang in his mind. Was this still about him? Was he trying to get Ardeth better, just so he could apologize to his friend, and then return to the way things were? That wasn't possible. He knew that. But the question she asked haunted him. *Was* this about him? About making himself feel better? Or was it about taking care of Ardeth? He wasn't the only one who noticed his non-answer. . .of course.  
  
"That is no answer. I can tell you why I care for Ardeth. I care for him because he bears the name of my sister and my nephew, because he carries the soul of Rameses, my friend. I care for him because he is a good husband who loves my best friend. But most of all, I care for him because he is a just, compassionate man. Which brings us back to the original question. Why do you care for him?" Anck challenged.  
  
Rick couldn't answer her. Because everything he would say came back to what Ardeth did for his family. . .and yet, he knew Ardeth cared for him. Why? What did Rick ever do for him? Yeah, they fought side by side, because Rick's aims were the same as Ardeth's during Imhotep's first rising. But what did Rick, on a personal level, ever do for Ardeth? Why this ferocious loyalty which Ardeth demonstrated time after time? And. . .why could Rick not accept that loyalty, why did he doubt it, even now?  
  
. . .  
  
Her legs refused to move. Oh, she could work her leg muscles. . .but each time she tried to stand up, her legs would give way. Her husband needed her, and she could go nowhere. Evy was taking a much needed nap. Rick was busy taking care of Ardeth. Anck had to go away. . .the energy required to make herself whole drained her. She needed to regain that energy.  
  
So Celia was alone, still on the davenport. She was alone, and she couldn't get up. Her legs were too rubbery. Plus, there was a dull ache in her knees, which made Celia think she injured them when she tried to catch Ardeth at the train station. She tried, oh yes, she tried. . .but she failed. At least she was able to break his fall, and kept him from hitting his head. Or worse. There was that comfort, small as it was.  
  
The young bride found a blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders. She was cold. She was cold, and frightened, and her legs wouldn't stop shaking. And if she was totally honest with herself, she felt a little sick. But Ardeth. . .oh, goddess, Ardeth. Celia shook in the warmth of the blanket, feeling her husband's dead weight in her arms. She saw how pale he was, of course. How could she not?  
  
She should have insisted that they remain at the O'Connell manor after his dizzy spell. She knew he wasn't feeling well. She should have never. . .Celia stopped , clenching her teeth. It did no good. And as she told Ben, Ardeth was stronger than she, even as sick as he was. He determined that they would leave today, and Celia couldn't talk him out of it. Which didn't prevent her from wishing she tried harder. It seemed that she wasn't immune to the 'what might have beens,' regardless of what she told Anck.  
  
Would have, could have, should have. But in the end, the regrets didn't do anything for Ardeth. . .which was probably the only reason she didn't lash out at Rick O'Connell. No, that wasn't the only reason. . .it was one of many. She was happy to see him, happy that he came after them. She wasn't alone any more, someone could help her to take care of Ardeth. She didn't know why he came. . .but it didn't matter.  
  
Then there was the matter of. . .well, it would have been a waste of energy. Celia was running very low on that precious material. She hadn't forgiven him for what he had said the previous day, but lashing out at him while he was trying to help was a luxury she couldn't afford right now. If she lashed out at him, she would have no strength of her own, strength which her husband desperately needed. . .and if she lashed out at him, he might leave. For Ardeth's sake, for her own, she would keep her anger to herself.  
  
At least for now. Celia took a deep breath. Try this again. She put her hand on the side of the davenport and pushed herself to her feet. And yet again, her legs gave out. She collapsed again, and this time, Celia punched the cushion beside her with a barely muffled cry of frustration. Never before had she been in this situation. Never before had she felt this helpless. At least when Carstairs sent his goons after her, she could run.  
  
Ardeth was hurt before, more than once, in the six months since their first meeting. He was hurt once because of her. Then, guilt kept her from his side. . .she wondered if she was being punished for that by being unable to go to her husband, now when he needed her so much. She heard her grandmother whisper, *no, sweet girl, it doesn't work like that. Your legs are shaky because you're going into shock. That's why you're so cold, why you feel sick. You aren't being punished.*  
  
Annabelle never lied to her, but that didn't prevent Celia from struggling with this truth. Her grandmother sighed deeply and asked, *A more fitting question, my love, is why would Ardeth be punished? You and he reached the O'Connell house in time. You prevented the Guardians from harming Evy or Nefertiri. Why is Ardeth in this condition? Why is he comatose. . .for what reason would he be punished?*  
  
Celia couldn't answer her grandmother, and Annabelle knew it. However, Celia's mind did focus on something else. Evy and Nefertiri? Her grandmother said, sounding more than a little sheepish, *The name of Evy's daughter. She has not yet told her husband. You must not tell him now, m'girl.* Nefertiri. Evy was naming her daughter, Celia's niece, Nefertiri.  
  
It was the perfect name for the child. As if. . .as if things were coming full circle. The cycle which began three thousand years earlier was finally coming to a close, and a new beginning was at hand. Her grandmother observed, *You are more right than you know, granddaughter. You see, little Nefertiri is the reincarnation of Ardath's daughter Miriam. . .the child she lost. To bind the families together further. And this time, the little one will have a chance to live.*  
  
Celia trembled a little, thinking about that. She remembered, with painful clarity, Ardath's miscarriage. Miriam, Khaldun's first victim in his reign of terror. Mother and daughter, now aunt and niece. Annabel continued, *There is more which you need to know, my dear girl. Have you wondered yet, why O'Connell was at the train station, looking for the two of you this morning?*  
  
Not really. Celia assumed that Evy sent her husband after them when she found Celia's note. Annabelle admitted, *That was part of it, yes. But there was. . .something else.* Something else? What was that supposed to mean? Her grandmother continued, somewhat reluctantly, *You see, dear girl, last night. . .last night, all three of the adult members of this household received some dreams. Very important dreams, for they demonstrated to Evelyn O'Connell, her husband, and her brother, what might have been.*  
  
What might have been. They were back to that, then. Annabelle continued, *It is fitting, that you had that conversation with Anck-su- namun. For she was one of the guides. She showed Jonathan Carnahan what might have been, while your previous incarnation showed Rick O'Connell, and Rameses showed Evy O'Connell. They saw what one small change can do to one's destiny.*  
  
Come again? Her grandmother explained, *A minute change can be the difference between life and death for many people, Celia. Lock-nah. . .he who caused such pain to your husband and his family through the years. . .if his aim was knocked off, and Horus returned safely to the Med-jai, then many events would have changed. It matters not what those events were, but suffice to say. . .Horus' death saved many lives.*  
  
That sounded ominous. Annabelle agreed, *Indeed. Another, not so minor change. . .this family learned how catastrophic things would have been, if Andreas Bey was in command of the Med-jai when Imhotep arose the first time. Something of which you have already heard.* Celia bit her lip. Yes, she had. From Garai, she learned that her husband, along with most of the world, would have died.  
  
*So you see, my little love. . .Rick O'Connell received a lesson he'll not soon forget. He learned just how much he and his family owe your husband. Indeed, as soon he woke up, he intended to apologize to Ardeth, but Evy talked him out of it. . .reminding him that Ardeth needed his rest. Even now, Rick struggles between his guilt and his own anger with Ardeth for leaving, though he understand the reason for it,* Annabelle said.  
  
Celia felt her lips twist into a parody of a smile. She didn't want to feel sympathy for Rick O'Connell. She didn't think she could feel anything about him at the moment. Annabelle murmured as Jonathan came downstairs, *I do not ask that you have pity on him, darling girl, or alleviate the guilt he feels by giving him a taste of his own medicine. I only want you to take pity on yourself. . .and Ardeth. Right now, you and your husband need the help of this family. Take what they offer. . .allow them to give you strength.*  
  
Allow them to give you strength. Celia sensed her grandmother drifting away as Jonathan reached her. He knelt in front of her, as if she was Miranda's age, and took her hands. He said softly, "Rick's taking care of Ardeth, old mum. I don't think anyone is in the mood to eat right now. Is there anything I can do for you?" Her grandmother's words flowed through her mind. Take what they offer. . .allow them to give you strength.  
  
Celia looked up at Jonathan and whispered, "Take me to my husband, Jon? My legs. . .my legs won't work." Jonathan looked at her, and Celia had no idea what he was thinking. Even now, he was changing so rapidly. She never met the bumbling clown described for her by Evy and Rick. . .she only knew the man who fought Meela to buy Alex time. She only knew the man who saved her husband's life in Ahm Shere.  
  
And it was he who answered softly, "Then let's get you upstairs, old mum. Between seeing you when I woke up and seeing Rick, I'd much rather see a pretty lady like you. We don't want to traumatize Ardeth, after all!" Celia did the last thing she would have thought possible under the circumstances. She giggled. Jonathan grinned as he slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her upright, saying, "Now that's more like it!" Much to her amazement, Celia found that with Jonathan's aid, she *could* walk.  
  
. . .  
  
With Rick tending Ardeth, and Evy retiring to her room for a greatly- needed nap, Jonathan and Alex found themselves at loose ends. Jonathan convinced his nephew to take care of his mother, while he checked on Celia. He found her sitting in the exact same place he and the others left her, though not in the same position.  
  
Celia looked at him with haunted eyes, and Jonathan knelt, taking her hands. He didn't know what to say at first, but then the words came. He said, "Rick's taking care of Ardeth, old mum, and you know Rick. He's got everything under control. Is there anything I can do for you?" Jonathan watched in concern as Celia's eyes glazed over, as if she wasn't really with him.  
  
Then her gaze focused on him once more, reassuring him that where she went, Celia was now back. She whispered, "Take me to my husband, Jon? My legs. . .my legs won't work." Jonathan looked at her compassionately, seeing how this whole situation was affecting her. He saw her crying earlier, but now something else was setting in. She was going into shock, and her legs wouldn't hold her.  
  
He smiled at her, answering, "Then let's get you upstairs, old mum. Rick's my brother-in-law, but between seeing you when I woke up and seeing him, I'd much rather see a pretty lady like you. We don't want to traumatize Ardeth, after all!" Celia looked at him in amazement, and then she giggled. It wasn't much of a laugh, but it was an attempt, and it was an attempt that warmed Jonathan's heart.  
  
He smiled as he put his arm around her waist and carefully pulled her to her feet, saying, "Now that's more like it!" He was blessed with a ghost of the brilliant smile which always stole the air from Ardeth's lungs, then told her, "Now, I need you to hold onto the arm of the davenport for just a moment, dear girl, while I get a blanket." She obediently released his arm, grasping the arm of the davenport for all she was worth.  
  
"W. . .where's Alex? And Evy?" Celia asked, her voice quavering. Jonathan didn't answer at first. . .he was removing the blanket hanging over the back of the davenport. Besides, he was concerned about the way her voice shook. She was swinging back and forth between maintaining her composure and fighting off her shock. She added, "And why are you getting a blanket?"  
  
"Because, dear girl, Evy is asleep and she often forgets to cover up. And even if she did remember to cover up this time, I'm sure Ardeth will need it," Jonathan said lightly as he draped the blanket over his shoulder. Celia nodded, then the Englishman saw the corners of her mouth twitch. She was trying to keep from laughing, and Jonathan asked in a mock- indignant voice, "And just what is so funny, young lady?"  
  
Her lips twitched, and she replied, her voice cracking with the strain of holding in her laughter, "I just. . .you put the blanket over your shoulder. Like you do when you're feeding a baby." Feeding a baby? And then it hit him, and Jonathan scowled at her. Well, really! Celia started giggling in earnest. Jonathan couldn't help himself. . .he started laughing as well. At least until she gasped, "Oh, wait until I tell Ardeth!"  
  
As soon as she spoke, though, the laughter in her eyes died and she whispered, "I can't tell Ardeth. Jonathan, what's wrong with me? My husband may be dying, and I'm laughing!" Jonathan put his hands on her shoulders, not sure what to do.  
  
Then a memory crept into his mind, and Jonathan replied, "You need to, dear girl. Laughter helps to keep you strong, and Ardeth needs your strength. You know, of course, about Alex being abducted last year. You know all of that. But in the midst of all the worry, and the fear for his life, we still found ways to laugh. Because you can't stop living. That would be the insult to your husband, darling Celia, not your laughter."  
  
He smiled, adding, "I remember having a conversation with Ardeth on the dirigible. About the Spear of Osiris. I told him. . .I told him that the gods themselves couldn't take it from me. And it was at that point that Izzy yanked it right out of my hands." Celia's lips quirked again, and Jonathan continued, smiling at the memory, "We struggled over it, before he finally won. For then. And I heard Ardeth softly laughing."  
  
Jonathan didn't realize it until later, of course. But once he did, and he realized that his antics made the too-serious Med-jai laugh. . .he was proud of himself. Right now, the wife of that Med-jai needed. . .something, and Jonathan would do whatever he could to provide what she needed. The words came to him a moment later, as he said, "So you see, dear girl. . .you are not betraying your husband. Not at all."  
  
Celia closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. When she opened her eyes once more, she smiled bravely and said, "You've made your point." Jonathan grinned at her proudly. Such a bright girl she was! Celia continued, her eyes starting to sparkle once more, "But I'm still telling Ardeth about the blanket over your shoulder." Jonathan gave a shout of laughter which probably woke Evy, and put his arm around her shoulders.  
  
"You do that, my dear, you do that," Jonathan chuckled, "by the time this is all over, I'm sure he'll welcome any and all amusing little anecdotes!" He led her upstairs, one step at a time, then continued, "In fact, I'm sure we can come up with some very good blackmail material to use against Rick." He glanced at Celia as he said this, and noticed the way her eyes lit up all over again. Her answering smile was downright wicked as she nodded.  
  
That smile, however, disappeared as Jonathan led her into Ardeth's room. Celia inhaled sharply, and Jonathan realized that this was the first time she saw Ardeth since they brought him into the house hours earlier. She whispered, "He looks like he's just sleeping." Jonathan looked at her, concerned, and Celia continued in a soft voice, "I love waking up before he does. . .you know, having a four year old and all. I'll wake up first, and watch him sleep."  
  
She was silent for a moment, as Rick paused in his work. He hadn't stopped sponging Ardeth down, and worry lines were now etched in his face, lines that went deeper than the last time Jonathan saw his brother-in-law. They would be there permanently, if Ardeth didn't wake up soon. He started to say something, but it was then that Celia noticed Ardeth's bare torso. She frowned and asked, "You undressed him? Then you saw. . ."  
  
"The scars on his back. I didn't see them, but I knew about them. You've seen them?" Rick asked, no doubt remembering the night he and Jonathan learned about the scars. The night before Ardeth and Celia were married, the night they managed to get Ardeth drunk.  
  
Celia responded with a rather impatient look, as she replied, "Of course I have. He's my husband, after all." Jonathan was on the point of asking what that had to do with anything, when it hit him. He felt his face burning, and almost choked on his tongue. He really did *not* need that image in his head. A quick glance at Rick told the Englishman that his brother-in-law was having similar problems.  
  
Celia ignored them both and walked haltingly toward the bed. Jonathan shook himself out of his embarrassed state, and moved forward with her. Just in case. However, she reached the bed and sat down beside Ardeth's bare feet, lightly caressing the inside of his ankle. She whispered, "Oh love, I'm so sorry. I know you'll tell me that there's nothing to forgive, but I swear I'll make this right with you."  
  
. . .  
  
Rick O'Connell would have shot anyone for bringing it up. . .if they knew about it. . .but he began talking to Ardeth. After a while, it was necessary for him, even if his audience made no reply. He wasn't like Ardeth. . .he couldn't be quiet for extended periods of time. And Rick needed to get a few things off his chest. But he couldn't apologize right off. . .he needed to work his way toward that.  
  
So he started with an innocuous topic. At least, considering what they were both going through, it was innocuous. Rick said, wiping the washcloth across Ardeth's forehead, "You know, you Med-jai scared the shit out of me the first time at Hamunaptra. I guess that was kinda the point, though, huh? I bet it usually worked. Until you came up against a group of determined treasure seekers. Those idiots thought you were protecting the gold. . .didn't understand that water was much more precious to you."  
  
Rick paused, looking down at the water now filling the basin. He tried to imagine what it was like for Ardeth, lying in this bed, burning up with fever, and wondered if his friend would consider this use of water to be a waste. *Too bad if you do, buddy,* Rick thought, *you're worth every drop of water in this basin, and then some. Yeah. It only took me this long to figure that out. Hell, I never claimed to be as smart as Evy!*  
  
"You know, I wonder sometimes. With all the people who died. . .did Daniels, Henderson, and Burns think it was worth it? The gold. . .was it worth their lives? Is life really that cheap to them? That's what always blew my mind about you. Until Imhotep rose. . .twice. . .and so many people died. A person would expect a desert warrior to hold life cheaply, but it's twice as dear to you. Maybe because of all the times you've had to kill to protect Hamunaptra? Makes sense to me," Rick went on.  
  
He took a deep breath, studying his friend's slack features. Not for the first time, he wondered whom Ardeth really was. Chieftain, warrior, brother, husband, father, son. Friend. Scholar. What was it that was said while they were still in Egypt? Ardeth, as chieftain, was a combination of king, general, and seer. Rick was only now seeing how his perceived failure to keep Imhotep in his grave ate away at Ardeth's soul.  
  
The American murmured, "I don't really know you, do I? I suppose I never really bothered to get to know you, the person. The man. You're always there for my family, whether I want you to be or not, and I'm just now starting to see that I have no idea whom Ardeth is. Why do you always return, no matter how badly I lash out at you? What the hell did I do, to deserve that kind of loyalty?"  
  
Rick thought about that, then went on, "Or maybe it's not me, but Evy. There's always been a bond between the two of you, dating back to our second meeting. When you almost died protecting Evy. I suppose I've always been jealous of that bond. Alex told me that you lost your focus when Evy was taken, all those months ago. That's not like you, buddy. Not at all."  
  
Though the words were teasing, the tone was not. Rick gazed down at this stranger who was his best friend. He thought back to that night. Why did he lash out at Ardeth? Was it simply his fear for Evy, or something more? He tried to think through those emotions and the memories, to find the truth. He spent very little time analyzing his emotions. He left that for other people. Until there was no place left to hide. Like now.  
  
Rick said slowly, "You know, I think I have part of it figured out. I know I can count on you, buddy. No matter how many times I lash out, you'll be there. Succeeding where I fail. Maybe I resented you for that. Hell, I don't know. You were there, Evy was kidnapped, and you were the only person I could take out my anger. And you took it. You were in pain, feeling guilty. And you took it."  
  
Rick stopped again, almost wishing for Anck-su-namun to return. Sparring with her was a helluva lot easier than baring his soul to Ardeth, even when his friend was unconscious. The adventurer placed the back of his hand against Ardeth's forehead, flinching when he felt the heat still radiating. And the basin was getting low on water, to say nothing of ice cubes. Alex was with Evy, and Evy was sleeping.  
  
However, before he got too much further, Jonathan returned with Celia. Rick frowned, noticing something which escaped him earlier. Why was she leaning against Jonathan like that? He was on the point of asking that question, when the new bride murmured, "He looks like he's just sleeping. "I love waking up before he does. . .you know, having a four year old and all. I'll wake up first, and watch him sleep."  
  
She was silent for a moment, and Rick straightened up, grimacing as his back protested. Celia tilted her head sideways, her eyes focusing on something in particular, and she asked with a frown, "You undressed him? Then you saw. . ."  
  
"The scars on his back. I didn't see them, but I knew about them. You've seen them?" Rick asked. As soon as the words were out, he regretted even asking the question. Celia was Ardeth's wife, of course she saw those scars. Of course, as soon as that occurred to him, an unwelcome picture popped into his head. Rick grimaced. Right, like he really needed to imagine *that!*  
  
Celia actually rolled her eyes, answering impatiently, "Of course I have. He's my husband, after all." Rick bit his tongue, especially when he saw Jonathan. Judging from the look on his brother-in-law's face, Jonathan had almost the exact same picture in his head that Rick did. The American couldn't figure out which was scarier. . .the picture or the knowledge that he and Jonathan were seeing the same things.  
  
Celia ignored them both and moved cautiously toward the bed. Jonathan shadowed her moves. He caught Rick looking at him, and shrugged, mouthing, 'just in case.' However, it proved to be unnecessary. Celia reached the bed safely and sat down beside Ardeth's bare feet. She put her hand on his opposite ankle, her face a mask of worry. To Rick's surprise, she whispered, "Oh love, I'm so sorry. I know you'll tell me that there's nothing to forgive, but I swear I'll make this right with you."  
  
Huh? Why on earth would she feel guilty? As if hearing his question, Celia said in a monotone, "I keep thinking that I could have kept him from getting so sick, if I talked him into staying here today. He expended so much energy. . .I kept telling him that we should come back here, but Ardeth didn't want to. Kept saying that he would be fine. Fine. Yeah, right, of course, he's really fine!"  
  
Rick winced, hearing the bitterness in her voice, and couldn't help what he said next. He rested his hand over hers, telling her, "Celia, I know you think you could have done something differently. But this isn't your fault. I know Ardeth." *Though not as well as I should, obviously.* However, Rick forged ahead, "He doesn't know how to give up. He never has. The most he can do is a strategic withdrawal." Like at Hamunaptra. And even then, he left with a warning for them to leave. . .or die.  
  
Celia just nodded, and Rick asked, "Jonathan, could you get me some more water in the basin, and more ice cubes?" Strangely enough, his brother-in-law didn't demur as he usually did. Instead, he nodded, quietly accepting the basin. He patted Celia's shoulder with his free hand, then left the room. If Rick didn't know better, he would swear this whole thing was affecting Jonathan as deeply as it was everyone else.  
  
But Jonathan was the least of his concerns right now, and Rick turned his attention back to Celia. Her hair hid her face from view, and Rick sensed she was hiding from him. He asked quietly, "Now, are you trying to deal with this guilt because you honestly think you could have kept Ardeth from leaving, or because it's the best way you have of not ripping into me, both barrels?"  
  
"Lashing out at someone who's trying to help is your style, Mr. O'Connell. Not mine," Celia answered shortly. Oookay, that answered that. Rick looked at the woman, noticing the way her thumb lightly stroked the inside of Ardeth's ankle. Celia continued bitterly, "Whether I like it or not, my husband's well-being is currently in your hands. And trust me, Mr. O'Connell. . .I don't like it. Not at all."  
  
He could have, in Izzy's words, gone in 'feet first, guns blazing.' However, Rick realized there was nothing he could say that she would believe. She was there when he lashed out at Ardeth, blaming him for the attack of the Guardians. Celia knew that he had a habit of doing that. But it was then that Celia surprised him, by bringing up a piece of the past which he never even realized that she knew.  
  
She once more tilted her head to one side, saying, "In Hamunaptra, when Anatol and I went to rescue Miranda, there was a funny little skeleton guarding the doorway to the resurrection chamber. He said something to me about his task being done, and his redemption begun. I have since found out that the skeleton belonged to someone named Beni Gabor. I believe you knew Mr. Gabor?"  
  
Beni. That little stinkweed Beni was protecting Miranda? Rick just stared at Celia in shock, and the other American continued, "I was told about your. . .association with him. Including how he betrayed you at Hamunaptra, the first time. And you considered him your best friend, isn't that right?" Rick didn't answer, having a sick feeling that he knew exactly where she was going with this.  
  
He was proved correct a moment later, when Celia asked very quietly, "Tell me, Mr. O'Connell. How much longer will you force my husband to pay for Beni Gabor's betrayal?" Rick looked away, wanting to deny her allegation. . .but he couldn't. And so, he returned his attention to sponging down Ardeth, hoping that it would be enough. But her question haunted him. Was he putting Ardeth in the same category as Beni?  
  
. . .  
  
He was freezing, and then burning. Tumbling over and over, his body consumed in pain. Voices mingled together. . .O'Connell (O'Connell?), Jonathan, Celia, little Alex. And Evelyn, always there, always present, her voice filled with anxiety. Over him? Yes, it would seem so. And touch. A familiar touch, which turned his blood to fire, a welcome touch. And yet, still he fell, unable to stop himself, unable to regain control over his fall. He would die when he hit, he was falling too fast, falling too far, falling. . .  
  
*Easy, lad. . .I have you,* a familiar voice said. Ardeth slowly opened his eyes, to find Annabelle smiling at him tenderly. She cradled him in her arms, just as Celia did in the cab. But. . .but he was falling! What stopped him from falling? Annabelle answered, *It wasn't that hard, love. I just reached out my hand and grabbed you. Just lie still now. Your body has been through a terrible ordeal, and it's not over yet.*  
  
A thousand and one different questions tumbled through Ardeth's mind. Namely, what happened to him? Annabelle, who was once more the young girl he remembered, could still read his mind. Her first words were, *You were poisoned, son. During the fight with the Guardians, one of them grazed your palm with his blade. Remember?*  
  
He did. There was poison on that blade? Annabelle confirmed this, saying, *There was. It was that poison which caused you to fall ill. As for your perceptions, that is a little more difficult to explain, but I shall try. You are unconscious. . .but can sense what goes on around you. You can't respond, of course. If that makes any sense.* It didn't, but Ardeth accepted that as part of his life. He worried when things made sense. It meant something was very, very wrong.  
  
Annabelle smiled, saying, *I like the way you think, young Ardeth. Then again, I always have. To continue, you will remain unconscious for an unknown amount of time. Unconscious, but not unaware. That is a very important distinction, son, because the others will be visiting you over the next few hours and days. If you focus your attention, you'll be able to hear what they say. And you'll need to pay attention.*  
  
She paused, looking embarrassed, then added in an undertone, *Although, I would imagine that would be easier for you if you were sitting right side up.* With that, she gently grasped his shoulders and pulled him into a semi-reclining position. Ardeth blinked and looked around. He felt his jaw drop when he realized that he was looking down. . .at himself. He looked up at Annabelle, who just nodded sympathetically.  
  
*I know this is a shock to you, son,* she said. Ardeth could only stare. They were there. O'Connell, and Jonathan, and most importantly, Celia. O'Connell. He was back at the O'Connell house! Annabelle said softly, *You collapsed at the train station. Celia's note to Evy told her where you were going, and that they might be needed. Rick O'Connell followed you to the train station, and he found you where you collapsed.*  
  
What???? Ardeth knew his friendship with O'Connell was over. Why would the American come to the train station? Perhaps at Evelyn's request? Annabelle answered, *Not entirely. She gave him a nudge, but it was his decision. He planned to apologize to you this morning. However, you two were already gone by the time everyone woke up. Everyone, of course, except little Alex.* Now Ardeth did feel dizzy. O'Connell planned to apologize? No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't wrap his mind around that.  
  
*I know, darlin,' it's hard to imagine Rick O'Connell apologizing to anyone. And all the gods know I wouldn't blame you if you are through with him. Come to think of it, they wouldn't blame you, either. That's why this is happening. . .oops,* Annabelle said, covering her mouth with her hand. Ardeth looked at her, trying to decide if he should question her further. At last, however, he gave up. There was no point in it.  
  
It seemed that his decision relieved his wife's grandmother (odd, to think of this young girl as being anyone's grandmother), for she continued, *But, Ardeth. . .your friendship with Rick is only over if you want it to be over. He wants a second chance. The question is, do you have the energy to give him a second chance? The patience? The trust, that he won't hurt you again the way he did yesterday?*  
  
Yesterday. What was different about last night, from all the times before? The answer was there almost immediately. All the times before, he never preempted his honeymoon in order to protect a friend, or a friend's wife. He and Celia planned to go to London eventually, but they wanted to take their time. The conversation which Ardeth overheard prevented that. That was the difference.  
  
At what point did a man say, 'enough is enough,' and just let go? At what point did he decide that he was tired of not being good enough? Ardeth was nearing that point, if he hadn't already. He didn't care about receiving no credit for aiding the O'Connells. He didn't care anything about that! It didn't matter who got the credit, as long as the evil was neutralized and the world was safe. As long as his people were safe.  
  
But he *was* fed up with O'Connell blaming him when something bad happened to his family. Tired of. . . Ardeth stopped the thought right there, knowing it did no good. But it was too late. He forgot that Annabelle could read minds. She said softly, compassionately, *Tired of Rick O'Connell blaming you for trouble hitting his family, when the trouble can be traced back to his wife's inability to leave things alone.*  
  
Ardeth looked away, though he was sure it would do no good. Annabelle could read his mind, she could follow him wherever he went. Even if he focused on the figures of O'Connell, Jonathan, and his beloved wife. . .Annabelle would still be there. There was no avoiding her. Annabelle answered softly, *There's no shame in admitting that, Ardeth. Not just between the two of us. I'll never tell.*  
  
Ardeth smiled at that, a smile that slowly died. Even if he admitted it, Evelyn was Evelyn, driven by her insatiable curiosity. She could no more stifle that curiosity than Ardeth could stop being a Med-jai. It was whom she was, what she was. It did no good to resent her, or be disappointed when she triggered yet another curse. Though Ardeth did feel a combination of a mixture of disappointment and resignation when he heard about the Necklace of Isis. Annabelle said softly, *No. And it says great things about you, Ardeth Bey, that you accept her as she is, with all the trouble she brings.*  
  
Ardeth looked away from the looming confrontation between his wife and O'Connell, as his wife's grandmother continued, *But in the end, you did not remove that necklace from the temple. It was Evelyn O'Connell. Shhh. . .I know that you're reincarnated siblings. But I speak the truth. You did nothing wrong, and sooner or later, it was inevitable that O'Connell would push you too far.*  
  
This time, Annabelle looked at the two figures remaining in Ardeth's bedroom, adding, *Just as it was fated that O'Connell would push my granddaughter too far. She just accused him of hiding behind an old betrayal, that of Beni Gabor. My Celia believes that Rick O'Connell is punishing you for something that happened before you two even met. And you know something? I think my grandbaby might be onto something.*  
  
She paused, then said, *But that's not why I brought you here. I can do nothing about O'Connell, but there is something I can do for you. There are things about your wife that you need to know, which will explain the abysmal way she was raised. My Celia turned out pretty good, despite Bruce and Maddy's neglect. I love my daughter, but she was a terrible mother. Thing is. . .* Now Annabelle was hesitating, as if she wasn't sure she should actually tell him what she wanted to tell him.  
  
But it didn't last long. Her eyes narrowed and her chin jerked up, the way Celia's did when she made a decision. Annabelle said, *It's time my grandbaby found out, once and for all, that she and Jason aren't to blame for the mistakes of their parents. Ardeth, Celia is not the oldest child. She has an older brother. And it was his loss which turned my daughter and son-in-law into people who shouldn't have been parents.*  
  
Ardeth looked at the woman in astonishment. Annabelle nodded and continued, *Somewhere, my grandson is about to celebrate his fortieth birthday. His name is 'Galen,' and he disappeared when Celia was two. She doesn't remember him, of course. She did, until Maddy talked her into believing that Galen was just an imaginary friend. She couldn't bear to hear her little boy's name, and when the search for Galen was finally called off, Maddy shut out everyone. Her daughter, her husband. . .everyone.*  
  
Yes, Ardeth could see that. He was a boy when Sanure ran down Anissa with her horse, but he remembered how withdrawn Anissa became. And then something occurred to him. From what Annabelle was saying, it sounded like Galen Ferguson was still alive. She said, *He is alive, and a day is coming, Ardeth, when you'll meet Galen. That's the other reason I'm telling you. You will meet him, in a manner similar to your first official meeting with Rick O'Connell. . .listen very carefully. YOU MUST NOT KILL HIM!*  
  
Ardeth certainly had no desire to kill Celia's brother. Although it was tempting to do something permanent to Jason at times. However, he was Celia's brother, and that stayed Ardeth's hand. Usually. But if this man represented a threat to his people. . . Annabelle said more gently, *He will not be a threat, not a deliberate threat. More like, in the wrong place at the wrong time. You will know when the time is right.*  
  
If she said so. Annabelle smiled at him, and Ardeth's breath caught in his throat. He never realized this before, but Celia inherited her grandmother's smile. Annabelle's expression changed, and she asked thoughtfully, *Tell me, Ardeth, would you like to hear stories about Celia when she was a little girl? It's only fair, since your mother shared similar stories about you with my granddaughter.*  
  
Ardeth just smiled, and Annabelle added, *I should have guessed. Of course you do. Well, there are so many to choose from. I believe she told you about running around half-naked in our backyard. Then again, that was her grandfather's idea. Regardless of what Celia tells you, I was the disciplinarian in the family. Even though I usually didn't have to discipline the children. They were eerily well-behaved. But my husband. . .oh, my Thomas thrived on spoiling those two!*  
  
She smiled, saying, *My Thomas is a beautiful man. That's one thing about our bloodline. The women choose uncommonly handsome men. I chose my Thomas, and Maddy chose her Bruce, and Celia chose her Ardeth. I think, though, that it skipped a generation. Because Thomas, and you, both have a strength which my son-in-law lacked. He was a small man, Ardeth. Small and weak, which always diminished his beauty.*  
  
*She likes taking the long way around, lad. Just be patient,* said a new voice. Ardeth looked to his right, to find a man there. The man, who was around Ardeth's age, smiled at him, saying, *I'm Thomas, husband to Annabelle, and grandfather to that beautiful young lady currently giving Rick O'Connell hell. Or rather, as a future president will say. . .she's telling him like it is. He only thinks it's hell!*  
  
Ardeth surprised himself by laughing. He liked that. It reminded him of his own dealings with the Elders, among others. Thomas groaned, *Oh, please, son. Please, please, please, you actually do give those idiots hell! They deserve it, of course. Especially when you consider that it took Imhotep's first rising before they would finally listen when you told them what needed to be done, if they wanted to keep the Med-jai effective. Then again, I suppose politicians are politicians, no matter where you go.*  
  
*Enough, Thomas! For heaven's sake, give the boy a chance to breathe! Besides, I was getting ready to tell him about Celia when she was a little girl. You do remember the stories, don't you, my love? You remember spoiling our two younger grandchildren rotten?* Annabelle scolded. Ardeth exchanged a bemused look with Thomas, who just smiled indulgently, as if he was used to this.  
  
*Yes, sweet girl, but as usual, you were taking the long way around, and thoroughly confusing Ardeth. That's why I showed up, of course. The boy just joined the family. . .he isn't used to us yet. So get on with your telling, Annabelle, before you confuse him any more. Hell, you're confusing me, and I've been married to you for fifty years!* Thomas retorted. Now that was enough to give Ardeth a headache.  
  
Annabelle pursed her lips, as if she intended to argue the point, then decided against it. Instead, she turned her attention back to Ardeth, saying with an affectionate smile, *Our Celia. Oh, you should have seen her when she was ten years old. Such a bright little girl. . .a small adult, she was. It sometimes broke my heart, how grown-up she was. Care of her little brother fell to her most of the time, you know.*  
  
Ardeth *did* know that, and he was starting to suspect that Annabelle's purpose here was to tell him something, and that something was not just about Galen Ferguson. Rather, he sensed that her stories were designed to teach him something about the woman who was his wife. And something which pertained to the current situation. Ardeth frowned, looking at himself. . .looking at his prone body, rather.  
  
He looked at O'Connell, still struggling to wrap his mind around what Annabelle told him. O'Connell came to the train station for him and Celia. He came because he wanted to apologize. Thomas said quietly, *And that's part of the story, son. You have a hard time believing that, and for good reason. Well, when Celia was ten years old. . .and even today. . . she had a hard time believing that her parents were capable of loving her.*  
  
Ardeth jerked his head back to look at his wife's grandfather, who continued, *Through her entire life, all our granddaughter has ever wanted was to be loved. Unconditionally, without reservations or a second thought. She wanted the security of knowing that no matter what she did, nothing would change our love for her. Until the day I switched streams, all my granddaughter wanted from me was that security.*  
  
Ardeth nodded. Thomas gazed at him steadily, until he was truly certain that he was making himself clear. Once he was satisfied, Thomas continued, *But at the same time. . .at the same time, she learned from her parents that nothing was never good enough. She could be the most perfect child possible in an imperfect world. But because her parents closed their hearts after Galen was taken, nothing she did was good enough. As beautiful and bright and inquisitive and kind as she was. . .it wasn't enough.*  
  
Again, Ardeth nodded. His wife's grandparents saw her as he did. He understood why she felt she had to prove herself worthy of him, though Ardeth had no such doubts. Thomas resumed, *It wasn't her fault, of course. Bruce couldn't forgive her for being a girl and having Galen's same adventurous spirit. He couldn't forgive her, because he couldn't forgive himself for Galen's disappearance. He shut out the daughter he adored until Galen vanished, because he couldn't face the possibility of losing her as well.*  
  
This sounded familiar to Ardeth. Thomas smiled sadly, explaining, *Bruce fell in love with his daughter in the moment she was born. He saw how beautiful and smart and wonderful she was. But he didn't trust that she wouldn't be taken away from him, just as Galen did. He didn't trust in her, he didn't trust in his wife. He didn't trust in himself, and in the end, because Celia could only take so much hurt. . .he finally drove her away.*  
  
And now, Ardeth was certain. They were no longer talking about Celia's father at all. Thomas smiled at him, the sadness gone, and said, *I knew you were a bright young man! Bright and strong in a way that my son-in-law never was. Yes, Ardeth. Now we have left the subject of my son- in-law Bruce. . .Celia finally severed her ties with her parents after they failed her one time too many. By that time, both my wife and I were no longer in a position to help her. She was alone, but she struggled her way through it.*  
  
Thomas leaned forward, continuing, *And if you think this was a cheap way to get you to consider giving Rick O'Connell a second chance. . .you're right. I can't tell you the future. I can see some of it, but I can't tell you. When Celia cut off ties with her parents, she was eighteen years old, and she had no support. You're fifteen years older than she was then, and you do have the support she lacked. So the question remains. Do you have the energy, the patience, the desire, to give Rick O'Connell one last chance?*  
  
*Before you answer that, Ardeth,* Annabelle put in, *think about this. Think about the similarities between Rick O'Connell and our son-in- law Bruce. Whether he can admit it or not, you are the best friend that man will ever have. He doesn't know how to deal with that. You would never betray him, and you know that. You have proven that a thousand times over, but he still doesn't know how to trust that. The question becomes. . .how much can you give, Ardeth, if he is willing to meet you halfway?*  
  
Ardeth was willing to go to the ends of the earth, for someone who was willing to meet him halfway. But. . .here was the problem. He no longer trusted O'Connell to be willing. That was the whole problem, actually. Ardeth didn't trust O'Connell, and now he knew that O'Connell didn't trust him. That was the difference this time, difference from all the other times. Ardeth could no longer fool himself into thinking that O'Connell trusted him.  
  
Yes, Ardeth was willing to go to the ends of the earth, if someone was willing to meet him halfway. Celia was willing. Evelyn was willing. But, now that he stopped and thought about it, O'Connell was never willing. He had no doubt that his wife's grandparents would try to nudge O'Connell, just as Evelyn nudged him into going to the train station.  
  
He just wouldn't hold his breath for their success, to borrow a phrase from Celia. And so, with that conversation concluded, Ardeth decided that he would take Annabelle's advice and watched what would go on below him. Whatever else happened, he was sure it would be highly educational. As usual, Ardeth had no idea just how right he was. 


	7. Visions from the Past

Hey y'all. . .this will be the last update for about a week. I'll be visiting my best friend up in Virginia. I'll be taking my laptop, just in case I have time to write while I'm there. Maybe, if the muses cooperate (along with the munchkins), I'll have the story finished when I get back.  
  
Sailor Elf: I knew what you meant, it's okay. What I was trying to say (and this is why I try not to post or respond to email when I'm tired), is that I'm flattered that you reacted as you did. It means I accomplished what I was going for.  
  
Deana: Yeah, and it gets freakier. Just wait until Ardeth starts reliving some of the ugliest moments of his life. Then we'll really see freaky.  
  
Nakhti: Well. . .honestly, I don't usually write such long stories. 'The Forever Friends' was one of the longest stories I've ever written, second only to my own sequel to the 1993 Three Musketeers movie, and it was an experiment. But don't you dare give up. The size of the fic is irrelevant. Quality is the important thing, and from what I've seen of your writing, you really should keep going. I actually tried to break 'The Forever Friends' down into two smaller fics, but they wouldn't cooperate with me. That was long. . .but I have two UC fics in the planning stages, which are monster fics, both of which combine characters from four or five fandoms. Those two will be a headache!  
  
Part Six  
  
The nap did her a world of good, though Evy could have happily lived without the dreams. When she woke up, she felt sad. . .depressed even. . .because of the dreams she couldn't remember. She couldn't remember the dreams, which meant they weren't visions or memories. The details weren't important. Just a feeling that she couldn't shake. She shook herself, and went to the kitchen.  
  
It was seven pm, long past time for dinner, though Evy was sure no one was in the mood to eat tonight. Still, she determined that they needed to keep up their strength. As sick as Ardeth was, he needed them to be *his* strength, and since Evy couldn't shake the feeling she was responsible for his condition, she was resolute that she wouldn't fail him again. Something simple which would keep their strength up, if not their spirits.  
  
As she fixed soup and sandwiches, Evy thought about her dream. She could remember no details, just an overwhelming sadness, and a sense that Ardeth had no idea how important he was to all of them. *Maybe,* she thought, *he doesn't. Maybe he really doesn't realize how desperately we need him. Not just to save our sorry bums when we do something stupid. . .but to remind us that all isn't lost.*  
  
He wasn't always like that, of course. She smiled to herself, remembering how he believed things were the beginning of the end, during Imhotep's first rising. He was so sure that it was over, and yet, he refused to quit. How on earth did she manage to misjudge that extraordinary man? Because she was young and stupid, that was how. She still had a great deal of learning to do, but she was getting there. *Yes,* she decided, *that's what we'll do. We'll start telling Ardeth how much he means to us all.*  
  
"I thought I. . .EVY! Dash it all, what do you think you're doing, old mum?" Jonathan yelped. Evy uttered a little shriek, spinning around to face her older brother. She was lucky. The movement took her away from the stove, which was lucky indeed, as she pressed up against the cabinets. Jonathan glared at her, the water basin firmly in hand, and exclaimed, "You shouldn't be exerting yourself like this, old mum! It's bad enough that Ardeth is down, we don't need you going into premature labor!"  
  
"OOOH! I am *pregnant,* Jonathan, I am not dying! I can still fix a meal, since none of you will let me take care of Ardeth! I love him, too, you know! I'm just as frightened as the rest of you!" Evy exclaimed, stamping her foot. It was a childish thing to do, and the baby kicked in protest. Her hormones were veering madly out of control, and she collapsed into a chair, burying her face in her hands as the tears came.  
  
Immediately, Jonathan dropped the basin on the floor and knelt in front of her. He said contritely, putting his hands on her knees, "There now, old mum, don't cry! I didn't mean to upset you. . .you just scared me. And we all know how much you love Ardeth, you tell us in a thousand ways without ever saying a word. We know you're frightened too. . .it's just that we want to take care of you, and Ardeth."  
  
"But don't you see, Jonathan," Evy sobbed, "it's my fault, somehow! I can't shake the feeling that this wouldn't be happening to Ardeth if it weren't for something I did! He and Celia saved my life, they saved the baby, and now Ardeth is unconscious and sick! He got sick after the Guardians attacked, and the Guardians wouldn't have attacked if I left that damn stupid necklace where I found it!"  
  
Jonathan awkwardly put his arms around her shoulders, drawing her head to rest against his chest. It was awkward, because of her belly, but Jonathan drew her into a fierce embrace which encompassed both her and Nefertiri. Happily, it settled Evy's agitated daughter. And still, Evy sobbed. Jonathan stroked her hair, whispering, "It's all right, old mum. This is Ardeth. Imhotep couldn't kill him, the Scorpion King couldn't kill him, and nor could Khaldun. He'll beat this, too, just like he beat everything else."  
  
Evy hiccuped, hoping the motion wouldn't get Nefertiri agitated all over again. Her luck held, and Evy whispered, "I don't know, Jonathan. I just don't know, and that's what frightens me so much! I keep feeling that he doesn't realize how much he means to all of us, and it's so important that he does know! I want his eyes open, Jonathan, I want his eyes open and I want him sparring with Rick, or kissing Celia, or something! I love him so much, Jonathan, and I can't imagine our lives without him. I don't want to try."  
  
Evy was too caught up in the horror of the current situation, so it never occurred to her that she used similar words more than nine months earlier, while she, Jonathan, Rick and Ardeth were tracking down Alex in Izzy's dirigible. Then, she was trying to tell Rick just how frightened she was for their little boy. That was a private conversation, so Jonathan didn't hear it. But the truth was there, nonetheless.  
  
Still holding her shoulders, Jonathan pulled back and said quietly, "We'll get him back, Evy. I told you. . .this is Ardeth we're discussing. We won't let him go without a fight, and I think it's time he knew that. So you just sit here, and catch your breath. I'll get the sandwiches together, put water and ice in the basin for Rick. And then, my darling baby sister, we'll bring Ardeth home to us!"  
  
Evy lifted her tear-stained face, to find hope and faith shining in her brother's eyes, to match the determination, the certainty, in his voice. He meant every word he said. When did her big brother become this determined man? Was she even looking at the time, or did she miss it? In the end, it didn't matter. As she had when Rick promised they would get Alex back, she smiled weakly and whispered, "I know we will."  
  
. . .  
  
Upstairs in Ardeth's room, the Med-jai's fever steadily rose over the next half hour. It took Jonathan a little longer than anticipated to return with the basin and the ice, and in the meantime, Celia fanned Ardeth with whatever she could find. She was resourceful, Rick would give her that. A resourceful pain in the ass, but Rick knew he had no room to talk. Especially not when it came to being a pain in the ass.  
  
Though the water on Ardeth's skin was drying, the fanning would cool him down a little more. At the very least, it would buy them some time. It wouldn't solve the problem, but sometimes, buying time was all you could ask for. Rick joined his friend's wife, using whatever happened to be handy. Celia used a neat little trick. . .folding a sheet of paper from a notebook several times. Once she noticed him helping, Celia made another one and they set to work.  
  
But it did no good. Ardeth's temperature still rose. After Jonathan returned with the basin, he left once more. Evy was making a light supper for everyone, and Jonathan wanted to make sure she didn't overdo it. Rick was silently grateful. Both Evy and Ardeth needed him right now, but he could only take care of one. Besides, so long as she wasn't in here, the chances of Evy going into premature labor were slim.  
  
Rick would take her shift. . .that was his way of taking care of her. And Celia hadn't spoken since she questioned Rick about Beni's betrayal. It was just as well, since Rick wasn't sure if he could answer her. Was he punishing Ardeth? He didn't want to believe he was that unreasonable. Okay, maybe he was a little angry at Ardeth for watching from the cliffs. But he didn't betray Rick. He didn't even *know* him the time! Besides, Rick had to admit that he would have done the same thing.  
  
He thought about that as they worked. He sponged, Celia fanned. It was almost eight pm when Ardeth took a turn. At first, Rick thought he was improving, because he was murmuring in his sleep. That was promising, given how little noise he made earlier. It soon became apparent, however, that this wasn't good. Ardeth wasn't waking up. . .he was sliding into delirium. This was a very bad thing, as Rick knew, for two reasons.  
  
First and foremost, the higher Ardeth's fever went, the more likely he would have seizures or convulsions. That was a *very* bad thing. Two, if the fever didn't break in time, there was a chance he would end up with brain damage, and they really didn't want that, either. Little time was spent discussing how he got so terribly sick, in such a short amount of time. . .they were more worried about bringing the fever down.  
  
Nor would Rick consider calling the doctor. He had the uneasy sense that calling a doctor would be of no use. He wasn't sure why he felt that way, but it was there. And around eight pm, he was proven correct. Ardeth went very, very still, and Rick and Celia exchanged a glance. Rick whispered, "Do you think. . .?" He never finished the sentence, because Ardeth screamed in agony, his body arching up off the bed.  
  
Rick was still reeling from Ardeth's scream. . .he barely registered Celia crying out, "Hold him down!" But he saw her climb all the way onto the bed, holding Ardeth's legs in place with her body weight, and he grabbed Ardeth's shoulders. Ardeth screamed again, crying out in Arabic. Rick flinched as he mentally translated what his suffering friend was saying.  
  
From the sound of it, Ardeth was reliving the day his brother died and his own torture at the hands of Lock-nah and his men. No seventeen year old boy should know such things, not even a young warrior. And the fact that it was Ardeth. . .refined even when he was angry (usually). . .made it worse. To his relief, Celia didn't ask what was said. Ardeth screamed again, and Rick bit his lip, his arms aching. Ardeth was very sick, but very strong. Or maybe it was the delirium which increased his strength. As his body bucked again, Celia lost her balance and hit the ground.  
  
Rick screamed, "JONATHAN!" But Jonathan was either on his way already, or ran when he heard Celia hit the ground, because a heartbeat after Rick screamed for his brother-in-law, Jonathan dashed through the door and pinned Ardeth's legs to the bed once more. Their friend's back arched up off the bed, and he screamed. Rick closed his eyes and bit his lip again, trying to fight back tears at the sound his friend made.  
  
God, he wanted those terrible screams to stop! Rick winced as another stream of invectives filled the air, but he held tight. Ardeth stopped his struggles, gasping for breath, and Rick took advantage of that respite to assume a more effective position. He lifted his friend up and slid in behind him, wrapping his arms tightly around Ardeth's chest and arms. Not a moment too soon, because Ardeth began fighting him once more.  
  
"My God, what's happening?" Evy cried out, appearing in the doorway. Rick almost groaned, partly from the elbow Ardeth just threw into his ribs (trust Ardeth to fight dirty), and partly from exasperation at his wife's arrival. Her timing couldn't have been worse. Her eyes widened and she cried out, "Stop it, you'll hurt him!" Alex darted out from behind his mother, and ran to Celia, who was still on the floor.  
  
"Not quite, old mum," Jonathan grunted, pinning Ardeth with his own body weight. Rick glanced at his brother-in-law, who made sure Ardeth couldn't knee him. Jonathan continued, "We're trying to make sure he doesn't hurt himself. Alex, help up Auntie Celia." The little boy helped Celia away from the bed, though she wasn't standing up. Her face was ashen with fear, and Alex's arms were wrapped around her.  
  
Rick thought things couldn't get any worse. He thought just hearing Ardeth scream was bad enough, just seeing his friend's face contort in pain was bad enough. It can always get worse. The cries gave way to muted sobbing. Rick choked back a sob of his own, holding tightly to his friend, as Ardeth called out to his long-dead father. Begging his forgiveness for not being a better son, a better brother, a better Med-jai.  
  
Rick didn't know what to do. He held Ardeth, his heart breaking at the pain in Ardeth's voice. His eyes fell on his son, who was wrapped in Celia's arms just as surely as she was wrapped in his. Alex, who was only four years younger than Ardeth was when he lost his father, who watched his mother die once and almost watched his father die as well. What would Rick want his son to know, if he died before Alex was a man?  
  
He ignored his own anger with Suleiman Bey, for not treasuring his child as every child deserved to be cherished, for dying while his son still needed him so much. Instead, he focused on his friend, his brother, his royal pain in the ass, and damn if Rick didn't want it that way. He whispered in Arabic, "Shhh. . .there is nothing to forgive, Ardeth. No man could have asked for a better son than you. . .if anyone should apologize, it is I, for leaving you before I could tell you that. Forgive me, my son. . .I love you so much."  
  
"Papa? You are not angry with me?" Ardeth asked. Rick looked at Evy, and saw tears running down her face. For his own part, the American wasn't sure whether the wetness on his own face was the result of tears or sweat. Why was Rick so surprised by this side to his friend? Ardeth was just a child when his father died. . .in his heart, where his father was concerned, he was still that little boy. And he always would be.  
  
"No, my son," Rick answered, "I am not. You did the very best you could. You protected your little brother. This is not your fault. Rest now, my son. Rest and regain your strength. . .your little brother and your sisters need you. And never forget how much I love you." As he spoke the last three words, he glared at Evy, remembering all the times she pressed him to admit just how much Ardeth meant to them both.  
  
She just offered him a faint smile. Evy approached the bed and gently stroked Ardeth's black hair, then kissed his forehead. She whispered in the same language, "Sleep now, my sweet boy. Sleep and let us take care of you." Ardeth gave a sleepy sigh, then went limp in Rick's arms. The husband and wife stared at each other. Rick was unwilling to let Ardeth go just yet. But the decision was taken out of his hands by yet another unforeseen turn of events.  
  
Evy sighed, "He's finally asleep, the poor thing. Alex, I. . .oh god." The last two words were whimpered. Rick's head jerked up, to see his wife's face tighten with pain. Her hand went to her abdomen, and Evy whispered, her voice strained, "Oh dear. . .oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Not now. . .this is really not a good time for you to be coming out, darling!" Rick just stared at his wife in shock. This couldn't be happening now!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
. . .  
  
NOW WHAT????? Jonathan released his grip on Ardeth, now that the Med- jai passed out, and turned toward his sister. She slumped back against the wall, her hand moving in soothing circles on her belly, as if she was trying to convince her daughter. . .OH MY GOD! Jonathan's jaw dropped open. The baby! Rick was still cradling their friend against his chest, even as he stared at Evy, looking panicked. Jonathan could hardly blame him. Alex asked, his voice cracking with fear, "Mum? Auntie Celia?"  
  
Jonathan tore his eyes away from his sister, and looked at Celia, who was gently disengaging herself from Alex's arms. She gently ruffled his dark blond hair, then put her arms around Evy. Jonathan's sister leaned on her gratefully. Celia said softly, "Let's get you back to bed, Evy. . .it'll be all right. Rick and Jonathan can take care of Ardeth. Alex, come with me and we'll take care of your mom."  
  
Her legs still shook, Jonathan saw, but she was steadier on her feet at the moment than poor Evy, whose face was still very pale, almost as pale as Ardeth's. Alex followed the two women from the room, still looking worried. Rick almost went after them, until Ardeth slumped sideways, and Rick was forced to catch him. Jonathan said weakly, "I think you might want to remove yourself from your current position first, Rick."  
  
The other man glared at him, but it definitely wasn't the worst Look Jonathan ever received. Still, Rick gently eased Ardeth forward, then slipped out from behind the Med-jai, still holding his shoulders. He almost tripped in the process, and Jonathan very carefully bit back the laugh which tried to bubble up at the comical picture presented. Rick *really* wouldn't have appreciated the humor in it, of course.  
  
Once he was clear, Rick lay Ardeth back against the pillows, and Jonathan didn't know whether he should be relieved or worried when Ardeth groaned softly. Rick froze, looking at his friend in concern. He was seated on the bed beside the unconscious Med-jai, his hands gripping Ardeth's shoulders. Ardeth whispered something in Arabic that Jonathan didn't understand, but he did understand the look on Rick's face.  
  
And *that* didn't bode well for someone. Rick growled, "Jonathan, get me a chair. I'm not leaving his side until he gets through this." Jonathan moved hesitantly from the room, unwilling to leave Ardeth alone with Rick in this state. At least, until he heard Rick whisper in a broken voice, "God, buddy. . .if I ever find any of Lock-nah's men are still alive, I swear to you, they'll pay for what they did to that boy!"  
  
*He means the seventeen year old boy whom my child was once,* Ardath said quietly. Jonathan looked around, to find her standing just to his left. Her arms were folded over her chest as she stared at Ardeth. The black wig was gone, as was the headdress she often wore to state functions. She continued, *My child told your brother-in-law what those men did to him. They went far beyond whipping him, though that's the only thing everyone else knows about.*  
  
Jonathan had a feeling he didn't want to know what *exactly* those monsters did. Instead, he focused on finding that chair. Oh drat! The nearest chair was in the master bedroom. Oh well, this would give him a chance to check on Evy. Ardath whispered, *I do not wish to tell you. But search your imagination, my friend. Search your mind for the most devastating way to humiliate a boy of seventeen. To. . .to violate him without violation. And there will be the answer for your brother-in-law's rage.*  
  
Jonathan still didn't want to think about that, and Ardath whispered, *I wish I had that luxury, my friend. But I watched what they did, and I could do nothing for him. I could do nothing, not even ease his pain. All I could do was help him forget.* She turned to look at him more fully, and said softly, *A thousand deaths are not nearly enough for Lock-nah or his second in command, Nizam Toth.*  
  
Nizam Toth? The ghost continued, *Tiyu. Also called the Dark Med- jai. He was a contemporary of Suleiman Bey. In exchange for immortality and eternal youth, he betrayed Ardeth's father. He is still out there, Jonathan. He is. . .a contingency plan, a player left in place in Cairo, in case Imhotep failed at Ahm Shere. He did fail, and now, it is just a question of when Toth will make his move against my people.*  
  
Ardath raised her eyes to look at Jonathan more fully as they headed for Evy's room, and the air left his lungs in a rush at the hatred he saw there. Ardath hated Nizam Toth as much as she hated Khaldun. The only thing which angered Ardath was. . .no. His mind shut down at the memories provided to him through Nassor. The only times when Nassor saw Ardath in a true rage, in a blinding fury in which she was totally incapable of being unreasonable was when. . . Dear God. Oh dear God.  
  
"And he's a threat to the Med-jai?" Jonathan asked, his voice quavering. This evil, evil man was in a position to cause great harm to Jonathan's family. Nizam Toth would care only that Rick bore the mark of the Med-jai. Danger for Rick automatically meant danger for Evy and the children. Ardath nodded, and Jonathan muttered, "Damn." His ghostly companion allowed herself a faint smile, one which held no mirth. It was a mere twist of her lips, but it said more than words could.  
  
*He is, and even as we speak, he is amassing a new force. He knows not that Imhotep was raised once again. . .like Lock-nah, Toth never had use for Khaldun. Not because he had any great respect for those whom Khaldun harmed, but because to him, Khaldun was a joke. No, Toth is a problem in and of himself. My greatest fear is that he will resurrect Lock- nah, and then my child will be in danger,* Ardath answered.  
  
Jonathan looked at her quickly as they reached Evy's room. He asked, "They can resurrect Lock-nah? How? His body was lost at Ahm Shere, when it was sucked into the sand!" Again, Ardath offered him a smile which wasn't truly a smile, and Jonathan remembered what they were discussing. Imhotep rose three times now, and Anck-su-namun came back twice. . .once at Hamunaptra, and once in the body of her reincarnation Meela. The Englishman muttered, "Right, never mind, I didn't ask that."  
  
*Tis all right, Jonathan. . .I do understand. You are afraid for your sister and her children. One of whom is your child,* Ardath commented. Jonathan almost gave himself whiplash, looking at his companion. She smiled for real this time, and said, *Did you really think I never noticed the similarities between you and little Alexander? His hair is only a few shades lighter than yours, and he has blue eyes, just as you do. The reason he is so similar to Nefertiri reborn is because she is your sister, of course.*  
  
She paused and looked just past him, saying softly, *I must go now, and I know you wish to check on your sister. Know this, old friend. Though I have gone to the Afterlife, I still watch over all of you. I will always be here when you need me. When all of you need me. But right now, someone else needs me. Blessings upon you, my dear friend. . .and you have my thanks and my respect for taking care of my child.*  
  
She gave him another smile, then disappeared. Jonathan shook his head, muttering, "She has to be Ardeth's ancestress. . .she talks just like him!" There was an amused peal of laughter greeting that remark, and as he so often did when Ardath laughed at him, Jonathan added, "You were meant to hear that!" He was on the verge of knocking on Evy's door when that blasted wench Anck-su-namun passed through.  
  
"Oh bloody hell, what were you doing in there, trying to finish what you started at Ahm Shere?" Jonathan demanded of the newcomer. Much to his shock, a hurt look crossed the newcomer's face. . .but even after a stoic mask settled across the beautiful features, hurt lingered in her eyes. Jonathan tried to ignore the guilt he felt at causing pain, because this wench didn't deserve his compassion.  
  
"I was seeing to Nefertiri reborn and Celia. I was. . .resting. . .when Ardeth's screams woke me. I wished to make sure everyone was all right, and gravitated to where Celia was. I did not realize that Nefertiri feared she was in labor," Anck-su-namun replied, her head held high. Jonathan didn't want to admire her for her strength. And a moment later, that was driven out of his mind when he realized what she said.  
  
He repeated, "She *thought* she was in labor? She and the baby are all right?" Anck-su-namun dipped her head, and Jonathan sagged against the wall, muttering, "It was false labor. Oh thank God. . .I don't think we could have dealt with Ardeth being sick and Evy being in labor in the same time. I don't think Rick could have ever forgiven Ardeth for taking him away from Evy when he was needed most."  
  
It was an innocent comment, so to speak. But it had the effect of thoroughly infuriating Anck-su-namun. Her dark eyes flashed with rage as she spat, "And your brother by marriage would no doubt be that selfish! Ardeth did not *choose* to become ill, Nassor reborn! He became ill because of that fight with the Guardians! He became ill because he was defending your sister from her own mistakes!"  
  
Jonathan's first instinct, of course, was to defend Evy. She was, after all, his baby sister, and protecting her was his duty. Right along with teasing her. But then Anck's words sank in, and he realized why Ardeth was so ill. He was told about the scratch on Ardeth's palm, the scratch he received when one of the Guardians grazed him with his dagger. His dagger, which must have been dipped in poison.  
  
"Tiyu. But do not ask me which kind, for I do not know. I would tell you. I would do anything in my power to save Ardeth. But this I do not know," Anck replied quietly. Jonathan wanted to scoff, but he remembered the reunion he viewed in Hamunaptra months earlier, the reunion between Anck and Lady Ardath. However she might have felt about the Med- jai at one time, he knew that Anck loved Ardeth.  
  
"So if we don't find out what poison was on that dagger. . .we will lose Ardeth?" Jonathan asked. Anck hesitated, then nodded. Jonathan swallowed hard, then he asked, "And. . .what do we do?" But he knew the answer. He could see it in her eyes. She didn't know. Only a short time earlier, Jonathan vowed to his sister that they wouldn't let Ardeth go without a fight. He now knew that a fight was exactly what they faced.  
  
. . .  
  
"Feeling better?"  
  
The voice came from the bathroom, where Celia disappeared only a few minutes earlier for a washcloth. Evy O'Connell looked up at her best friend and managed a weak smile. She couldn't remember ever being that frightened before. She was terrified, yes, when Rick raced the sun to save Alex. Beyond terrified. But Alex wasn't inside her, and for some reason, that made all the difference in the world.  
  
She could feel Nefertiri's desire to get out into this world, as well as the baby's agitation, the agitation which she picked up from the mother. Evy didn't want to leave Ardeth. He needed them all. He needed their strength, their love. But, she was reminded, her daughter also needed her. And so, she allowed Celia to lead her out of the room, concentrating on calming herself and her child.  
  
Her companion was a great help in this. Celia kept her voice low and soothing, talking to Nefertiri as if she was already there. She kept her hand in the small of Evy's back, and the Englishwoman was ashamed at the way she leaned against her companion. But Celia had strength to spare at the moment. Celia's voice soothed Nefertiri, and Evy had to wonder why. It was almost as if Celia was familiar to Nefertiri somehow.  
  
And really, Evy wouldn't have blamed Celia for resenting her. Her friend needed to be with her husband, just as he needed her, but she was here. Sitting beside Evy at first, calming both mother and child with a lullabye drawn from the memories of Lady Ardath. Evy knew this, because she found the same song in the memories of Princess Nefertiri, and she hummed along until the contractions stopped. Eventually, she retreated to the bathroom for a washcloth to mop up the sweat on Evy's face.  
  
"I'm feeling more than a little foolish, but my little girl is no longer in a hurry to join us. I'm so sorry, Celia, I know you want to be with Ardeth right now, I. . ." Evy began. Celia gave her a faint grin, squeezing Evy's hand again, and the pair fell silent. Evy thought about Ardeth again, and her eyes smarted with tears. Just when she thought she knew all the sides to Ardeth Bey which existed, another one made an appearance.  
  
This time, she encountered the child who feared he failed his father. Evy longed to do much more than just kiss his forehead, and pretend to be his mother, but that would wait until after Nefertiri was born. Celia said unexpectedly, "Did I ever tell you about the night Miranda was born? I know I told you about Carstairs and how that came to be, but I don't think I ever told you about that night."  
  
Evy shook her head, and Celia began, "A lot of storytellers begin their tales with the words, 'it was a dark and stormy night.' It invokes images in your head. After a while, those words lose their impact, because they've been used so much. So many horrors take place in the broad daylight. But this was a night just like that. I went into labor after an argument with Jason. I don't even remember what it was about. The phones were out, and I. . . things were a bit blurry."  
  
Evy squeezed Celia's hand, and her friend went on, "I just remember. . .the pain. Lying at the bottom of the stairs, and not sure how I got there. I realized later that I was coming downstairs, because I heard knocking at the front door. But when I reached the last stair, I collapsed in pain. I actually lost consciousness. . .when I opened my eyes, my mother was there. She came to check on me, because of that argument with Jason."  
  
Evy didn't make a noise, didn't even move. Celia didn't talk about her parents, and when Jason did, it was never pleasant. Celia continued, "I remember her half-dragging, half-carrying me into the next room. She kept saying. . .'not again, no, you can't have her.' She was crying, Evy. My mother, who never paid attention to me unless I did something she didn't like. . .was crying. Crying, and telling me that she loved me, she always loved me, and she always would love me. I thought I was dreaming."  
  
Celia raised her eyes to Evy's, and she whispered, "She died that night, as my daughter was born. She ran into the street to get help for me. For the daughter who was such a disappointment to her." Evy swallowed hard, tears now stinging her eyes. Celia sighed, "The housekeeper delivered Miranda. The birth was difficult. I was in labor for hours, but she was a good midwife and there was no scarring, not too much bleeding."  
  
"It wasn't your fault, Celia," Evy whispered, "your mother's death. It wasn't your fault at all. I think your mother finally realized that all those years, the roles were backward. And if it took her sacrificing her life to make things right, that was exactly what she would do. I don't know why your mother held herself back from you, for all those years. But in the end, she saved you and Miranda, didn't she?"  
  
"Yes," Celia admitted softly, "she saved us both. 'Christine' was my mother's middle name, you know. I named Miranda. . .her middle name was a combination of 'Christine' and 'Annabelle.' When my mother ran in front of that car, she drew a lot of attention. My housekeeper had assistants now, and. . .and later, one of the police officers who was with my mother told me that she died with a smile on her face. Do you really think that was what happened? That she was being guided, to help me?"  
  
"I'm sure of it," Evy replied. And she was. She wasn't sure why she knew that, or how she knew that. But every cell in her body told her that there was at least a part of Madeleine Ferguson which knew she was sacrificing herself for her child. She only wished it wasn't necessary. Celia needed a live mother, not a dead martyr. She needed her mother, so they could reconcile, and put things to rights. Together.  
  
She was telling Celia the easiest part of the truth. But Evy suspected there was more. Everyone knew that Jason and Madeleine argued after Jason left his pregnant sister. Madeleine berated her son for failing his sister so terribly. Was it so far-fetched that Jason turned it around, reminding her that she was never there for her daughter? Celia was nurtured by her grandmother, and later nurtured her own brother.  
  
It made sense. Jason lashed out when he was afraid or angry or guilty. Evy stopped and thought about that, frowning. Come to think of it, he reacted just as Rick did. Evy dismissed that and continued with her original train of thought. She didn't want to consider any similarities between her husband and Celia's brother. Jason would have reminded his mother that she failed Celia just as badly as he did, possibly even worse.  
  
Guilt-ridden, Madeleine did the only thing she knew to do. She couldn't face the knowledge that she could have destroyed her daughter's life. . .and unable to cope with that, or with the responsibility of reaching out to her child, Madeleine chose death. She wasn't strong enough to do what was necessary, so she once more left the burden on Celia. Only this time, there were no more second chances, because Madeleine was dead, and Celia would forever wonder if she was to blame.  
  
Was it possible that Evy was wrong? Of course it was. Madeleine was four years dead. But it made sense, though she said none of this to Celia. Instead, she squeezed her best friend's hand one last time, then told her, "I'm fine. See to Ardeth. Take care of him for me, for both of us." Celia hesistated, then nodded. Evy pushed herself up from the pillows, enveloping the other woman in a gentle hug.  
  
Nefertiri made her presence known with a kick, and Celia actually giggled. Evy said with a laugh, "You see! Your niece agrees! Now, go, silly girl!" Celia glared at her, but refrained from reminding Evy that they were the same age. She always did have more self-control than Evy. She quietly left the room, leaving the Englishwoman to think about what came next. Where did they go from here and how did they save Ardeth?  
  
. . .  
  
*What comes next? What comes next, my dear girl, is I leave your husband in a world of hurt for thinking I didn't love my son! For saying that I did not cherish him and treasure him as he deserved!* Suleiman Bey stormed in the Afterlife, glowering down at the O'Connell manor. Andreas, for once, kept his mouth shut. Not because he thought his father was wrong, but because making a smart remark wouldn't help Ardeth.  
  
*Father, he knows no better! You know how O'Connell is, he lashes out at anyone when he's angry and scared. Would you rather he lash out at Ardeth?* the young man finally asked. His father glowered at him, but Andreas stood his ground. He continued, *I saw those images, Father, just as you did. I saw Ardeth dying in my arms. I even saw what would have happened if the Creature rose before your death.*  
  
Suleiman looked away, ashamed, and Andreas sighed. That almost happened. It would have happened, if he hadn't listened to his father (for once), and took a group of their men to deal with the priests intent on resurrecting Imhotep. They stopped them, and Suleiman sacrificed his life to buy time for his son. He sacrificed his life, because Nizam Toth was a traitor.  
  
Toth! By the gods, Andreas wanted to make that monster pay for what was done to his family! The young man shook his head, aggravated, for he knew he would never have the kind of power needed to take down one like Nizam Toth. Ardeth had a better chance, because he was willing to work with other people. Even if they were people like Rick O'Connell. Fortunately, he had other allies. Like Celia.  
  
In the months since Ardeth's wedding, Andreas learned a great deal about his sister-in-law. He knew she was sexually insatiable, that Ardeth slept peacefully in her arms, and she was exceedingly protective of his little brother. He knew that she was quietly teaching English to Imhotep, along with the ways of this new world. He trusted her about as much as he trusted anyone, and certainly more than he trusted the Med-jai.  
  
*It is not an easy thing, my son. . .knowing that a single decision you make could end your entire world as you have known it,* Suleiman said softly, bringing his oldest's attention back to him. Andreas inclined his head. That was all too true. Knowing what he knew now, he gladly would have made the same mistakes he did sixteen years earlier, given a choice between his life and the life of his little brother, as well as their people.  
  
*It was not your mistake which led to the rising of the Creature in that reality, Papa. It was mine. But you paid for it, as did Ardeth,* Andreas replied, remembering the sight of his young brother being beaten by Lock-nah. Suleiman looked at him sadly, and Andreas sighed. There was a very good reason why Ardeth reminded their mother so much of their father, and it went beyond the physical.  
  
*You are my son, Andreas. My responsibility, just as your brothers and sisters are. Your mistakes are my own. The same is true of Ardeth,* Suleiman answered. Andreas glared at the older man, unwilling to hear any criticism of his little brother. Suleiman added, *Ardeth made mistakes. Of a different variety from yours, indeed, but mistakes nonetheless. You were careless, Andreas, and Ardeth was unwilling to trust.*  
  
*He trusted O'Connell, did he not? He led our people through their darkest hour, and that was better than either of us did!* Andreas fired back and his father looked away. The young man shook his head, saying bitterly, *I understand why Ardeth always felt that nothing he did was good enough. Because there is no such thing, is there?*  
  
*La. The difference between you and your brother, Andreas, was that he always took his responsibilities seriously, and you did not. You saw being chieftain as playing a magnificent game. Until Acacia was raped, it never occurred to you that there might be consequences for your actions. You failed to deal with Lock-nah, and your family paid for it,* his father replied.  
  
Andreas didn't look away from his father, though the words hurt. He knew it to be truth, and hissed, *Yes. Yes, my carelessness resulted in my sister being violated, in my own death, and in the torture of my younger brother. It resulted in Ardeth fighting for his life, and then for his own birthright. He made a decision as an older brother. . . that was what he was, Father, and what he is. I left him no choice!*  
  
*Untrue, my son. Your brother chose Anatol's safety over the good of the Med-jai. The Med-jai just lost one chieftain, they could not lose another. But Ardeth was not thinking as a chieftain, he was thinking as a young warrior who just lost one brother and faced losing another. There is no shame in making the wrong decision. He learned from it, Andreas, and that makes the difference,* Suleiman answered.  
  
Andreas shook his head wildly, growling, *There you go again! You assume that Ardeth was thinking only of saving Anatol's life, but did it never occur to you that he was thinking of other things? That he was buying Anatol time to get to safety? If he and Anatol tried to outrun the bandits together, on one horse, they both would have died! And you wonder why O'Connell believes you do not love Ardeth?*  
  
There was a flash of rage in his father's eyes, but Suleiman replied quietly, *No, my son. I know what Ardeth was thinking. I saw inside his heart. It is you who has assumed that Ardeth made his choice based solely on emotion. Yes, his choice was made partly from emotion, partly from an older brother's decision to protect the younger. But logic entered into the decision as well. Ardeth has always been one of our finest riders, Anatol, from an early age. He knew exactly what he was doing.*  
  
Andreas stopped. . .and glared at his father, realizing what Suleiman just did. His father smiled faintly, adding, *Ardeth had the right of it. He thinks you are a great deal like O'Connell. And that reminds me, I still need to have words with that lout. Saying I do not love my son, that I did not cherish him while I drew breath! He will never know how much my children have meant to me!*  
  
Andreas started laughing and said, *I am not the one who is much like O'Connell, Papa. You are, as well.* Suleiman glared at him, and Andreas laughed harder. After a moment, however, he stopped laughing. It wasn't that funny, and his laughter was due to tension, more than anything else. He was afraid for his little brother. He knew why this was happening to Ardeth, and that the gods were trying to teach O'Connell a lesson.  
  
But he hated seeing his brother suffer. Hated seeing all of his siblings suffer, of course, but only one of his siblings was the chieftain of their people. Surely there were better ways to teach Rick O'Connell a lesson! He knew the answer, though. They had to make sure, once and for all, that O'Connell understood what his selfishness and his wife's curiosity cost Ardeth and the Med-jai. That didn't mean Andreas liked it. And he knew for a fact that his sister-in-law would like it even less when she found out about it.  
  
*It will be all right, my son. There is only so much a human body can take, and neither Osiris nor Isis will allow any lasting harm to come to your brother,* Suleiman said softly. He smiled a bit ruefully, and added, //And Horus has informed me that he will deal with Rick O'Connell himself. There is no need for me to deal with him.// Andreas raised his brows at that, but said nothing.  
  
. . .  
  
Ardeth remained quiet for the rest of the night. As promised, Jonathan eventually returned with a chair for Rick, and the American remained at his friend's side. Evy went to bed after coaxing Rick and the rest of the family to eat something, and Alex trotted after his mother. To take care of her, he said, and no one told him that he couldn't do that. Alex was a lot like his father. He hated being helpless, more than anything else.  
  
Jonathan slept in his own room, while Celia quietly made a bed for herself on the floor. Rick didn't try talking her out of it. In the first place, it would do no good, and in the second. . .he didn't have that right. Ardeth was her husband, and in her position, Rick knew nothing short of dynamite would have kept him from Evy's side. Celia gently kissed Ardeth's forehead, and nodded to Rick, then lay down on her make-shift bed.  
  
Anck-su-namun materialized shortly thereafter, at Ardeth's bedside, opposite of where Rick sat now. She passed her hand over Ardeth's forehead, whispering something that Rick couldn't make out. And much as he hated to admit it, there was only pain and anxiety in the concubine's brown eyes. She loved Ardeth, he accepted now, just as much as Evy did. And she was just as frightened for him as they all were.  
  
She was also there to watch over Celia. It never failed to amaze Rick, that protectiveness. He knew Celia was the reincarnation of her best friend. He remembered how strong the bond was between the two 'forever friends' was. But that was three thousand years ago, and Celia was not Ardath. They were very similar, of course. Not just because they had the same spirit, but because their personalities were very similar.  
  
It should have surprised him more, the love which Anck bore for Ardeth. After all, he was her ancient enemy. The only Med-jai she cared for was her own bodyguard, Shakir. According his Terumun memories, there was a time when Anck hoped Shakir and Ardath would fall in love. Perhaps the young concubine would have lived longer, if that was the case. No one would ever know, and perhaps it was for the best. Especially after his dreams. Sometimes, it really was best *not* to know, what might have been.  
  
The hours passed, and the house slept, all except for Rick. He would not leave Ardeth's side, not even to sleep. But Rick did grow lonely, and with no one else to pay attention, he quietly took Ardeth's hand. No words were spoken. There were too many times during the last few days when words failed him. Evy told him, when he checked on her briefly, that she thought it was time they all told Ardeth what he meant to them. No more ducking out, no more disguising your emotions with something else.  
  
In the still of the night, with no one around, there was no place for Rick to hide. This was his fault. He couldn't hide from that knowledge. This entire situation was his fault. Ardeth's illness. . .he wasn't feeling well, and Rick drove him away because he didn't engage his brain before speaking. And if this was someone's idea of punishing Rick, then they could find another way, without dragging Ardeth into it.  
  
Oh, that would be a first! Rick always accused Ardeth of dragging his family into the problems of the Med-jai, but that was backwards. Rick's family dragged Ardeth into their problems. That was what made it so unbearable now. He whispered as the sun rose, "How many times, buddy? How many times will you pay for our crimes? How many more times can I push you away, before you finally run out of patience?"  
  
Okay, that last question wasn't necessary. Ardeth's patience vanished the moment Rick accused him of bringing trouble to their doorstep. He sighed, "I'm sorry, buddy. I should have never said that to you, of all people." A muffled sound tore his attention away from Ardeth, and Rick saw that Celia was starting to stir.  
  
He carefully placed Ardeth's hand back on the blanket and grimaced at the pain in his back. He was thirty-five years old, he had no business pulling these damn all-nighters any more. But he couldn't leave Ardeth. Much as he wanted to remain in bed with his wife, and feel their daughter move under his hand. . .he couldn't leave Ardeth. After a moment, Celia sat up, rubbing her eyes sleepily.  
  
Rick showed considerable restraint (especially for him) in not laughing at her. Celia's dark hair was flat in some places and sticking up straight in others. He was especially glad that he didn't laugh at her when her confused eyes lit on Ardeth. Rick watched in silence as her expression changed from confused to stricken to angry then to resigned, as she remembered everything which happened during the last few days.  
  
But all she asked was, "No change?" Rick shook his head, and Celia groaned as she pushed herself to her knees. Rick's laughter almost escaped him when he heard her mutter, "I'm getting too old for this." She wasn't even thirty-one. . .her birthday was in three weeks, while she and Ardeth were scheduled to be in Scotland. Rick knew because Ardeth asked him at one point what he should consider when buying his wife a gift.  
  
The young bride wobbled over to the bed, and sat at the foot of the bed. As she had the previous night, Celia lightly caressed the inside of Ardeth's ankle, forcing Rick to look away. She whispered, ignoring Rick, "Good morning, my love. I need to check on Evy and get breakfast started, but I will be back as soon as I can. I love you."  
  
Rick looked back as she finished speaking and rose to her feet. He really hated it when she touched the unconscious Ardeth like that. He always felt like an intruder. Celia said in a monotone, "I'll be back in an hour. I'm trusting my husband to you." Then she left, and Rick released his breath. His first inclination was to call her a bitch, then he realized she was civil. Which was really more reasonable than he usually was.  
  
She was as good as her word, returning about an hour later with breakfast, then left again after Rick ate. It was her intention to find some more washclothes, so more than two people could sponge down Ardeth. This worked to Rick's benefit, since his hands ached this morning. She probably knew that, too. Even if she could barely speak to him, she wasn't fighting him, at least not while Ardeth was fighting for his life.  
  
By the time noon rolled around, Rick no longer kept track of how long he sat here. It seemed like his world just shrunk down to just this room, and those who went in and out during the last two days. Evy looped her arms around his neck, saying softly, "You should get some rest. . .if not for yourself, then for him. He needs you strong right now, Rick, not exhausted." The American shook his head, his eyes focused on Ardeth.  
  
"It's my fault, Evy. . .if I wasn't such an ass in the first place, none of this would have happened," Rick answered. He shook his head, trying desperately to shake the lump in his throat with the motion. There, he finally said it out loud. Not just to himself, but out loud. It wasn't his style to bother with fluffy sentiment or such guilt, but these were hardly normal circumstances. He had only to look at Ardeth again to know that.  
  
Evy hugged him, whispering, "Celia was angry with you, Rick, she simply lashed out. Ardeth w. . ." Her voice trailed off as Rick drew her around to sit on his lap. Nope, he couldn't let her finish that sentence. The American looked into Evy's eyes. His wife. One of the two. . .soon to be three. . .most important people in his life. The mother of his child, and the center of his entire world, if he was truly honest about it.  
  
But Ardeth was important, too. Over the last few days, he enumerated everything Ardeth did to protect his family. Everything that they went through since their first meeting, when as typical alpha males did, they tried to kill each other. Rick smiled in spite of himself. God, you know you're screwed when you remember someone trying to kill you with fondness. Maybe that was why he put into words what was bothering him.  
  
He said in a low voice, "Ardeth is unconscious and likely dying, Evy. He collapsed at the train station, and just lay there for god knows how long. Don't. . .please don't tell me. . .that Ardeth would understand. Please don't tell me that. Because there is a very good possibility that he will never wake up." Evy just sighed, tightening her arms around Rick's neck. He wasn't telling her anything new, either.  
  
"I won't tell you, then. And I wouldn't dream of telling you that he'll be all right. I don't know the future. But, honey, I do know this. Ardeth has never given up, not a moment in his life. He has even more to live for now, than he has ever before. What makes you think he'll give up now? Because you two had words? Because you tried his patience one time too many?" Evy asked.  
  
She didn't say the words, but Rick heard them anyhow. *Do you think you're that important to Ardeth, that you determine whether he lives or dies? Just who do you think you are?* Rick swallowed hard. He didn't know to whom the voice belonged, but right now, it didn't matter. It was true that he was to blame for Ardeth's condition. . .for Ardeth being so sick. But it wasn't up to him, whether he lived or died.  
  
That was up to Ardeth, and it was time Rick started accepting that. He made it harder for Ardeth, by taking his choices from him. Ardeth would choose to live. He would fight to live. Just like he fought for everything else in his life. Rick released a breath. He knew that Celia blamed him. . .but she didn't expect things from him that he couldn't give. All right. Then they would start with things he could give.  
  
Evy was right. He took too much on himself during these last two days, perhaps because he took too much from Ardeth in the past. But there were other people in this house who wanted to take care of Ardeth, who could do the job. People who had things to tell him as well, apologies to make. Words to share. This wasn't about Rick, and he had to remember that. This was about Ardeth.  
  
And he would start with the woman in his arms. She was gently caressing Ardeth's black hair, just as she did after Ardeth's last nightmare. Rick finally said, his voice very soft, "You're right. Will you be all right for an hour or so?" She nodded, sliding from his lap. It was rather awkward, given her pregnancy, but she managed it. Just like she managed almost everything else in their lives. Sometimes better than he did.  
  
"I'll be fine. I've been dying to get Ardeth alone for the last day," Evy said with a mischievous grin. Rick rolled his eyes and kissed her lightly. He rested his hand lightly on Ardeth's shoulder for a moment, not sure what he should say to his unconscious friend. But Evy said softly, "We'll both be fine, Rick. It's time I started helping Ardeth too. Go." Rick nodded, glanced at Ardeth one last time, then quietly left the room. 


	8. Words Spoken and Unspoken

Part Seven  
  
"Well, this is a fine mess, isn't it?" Evy said softly, carefully wiping down Ardeth's face and chest. He remained silent, as he had for the last few days, but Evy expected as much. She continued her work, dunking the washcloth into the basin, wringing it out. It was mindless work that required little thinking, and allowed her to focus on other things. Like Ardeth.  
  
She went on, "None of this is your fault. You didn't ask to be sick, nor did you ask to have your honeymoon interrupted by my curiosity. That doesn't make it easier to watch you laying here, so still and so silent. If anything, it makes it worse. That's not the Ardeth I know and love. No, he's tall and elegant and dangerous and compassionate. You're quite the contradiction, did you know that? No, of course not. You think you're nothing special, just a warrior doing his duty. But you are very special, Ardeth."  
  
Evy paused, feeling Nefertiri move in her womb. She said, "Perhaps I should remind you of what you lose, if you gave up now. Giving up is alien to you, Ardeth, as alien as not seeking is to me. I know you don't want to give up, but I also know how tired you are. Yes, I think you need a reminder." Evy put the washcloth back into the basin and took his hand, placing against her side where Nefertiri was currently cuddling.  
  
Evy told her daughter, "Nefertiri, darling, I want you to meet your uncle Ardeth. He's my other older brother, and when you are born, I know you'll grow to love him as much as we all do. This is very important, my Nefertiri, for your father loves him just as much as I do. It's just very hard for him to acknowledge that Ardeth is part of our family, and he always will be."  
  
Evy smiled as her daughter responded with a healthy kick, a smile tinged with a wince. However, the young Englishwoman told her brother, "There, you see? Your niece has made her feelings known. You simply must come back to us, because Nefertiri wishes to meet you." Ardeth groaned, every so softly, and his dark head moved on the pillow restlessly. It wasn't the reaction which Evy was hoping for, but it was a reaction.  
  
Evy dropped her facade and said quietly, "Listen to me, Ardeth. If it takes the rest of my life to make you understand how important you are to this family, so be it. I love you. And I'll not let you go without a fight. Rick and Jonathan, Alex and Celia, and I. . .we'll all fight for you. It's hard for Rick to admit you mean a great deal to him, but you do. He felt so guilty, Ardeth, for treating you so badly. He still feels guilty."  
  
Evy paused, gently kissing the back of Ardeth's hand, then went on, "And I know she has every right to be angry, but Celia makes it worse. She's. . .do you remember during the time of Rameses, when someone would make Ardath so angry, that she would totally. . .she would become an ice queen? And how even Anck-su-namun could break through that wall of ice, until she was ready to let someone in?"  
  
The reincarnated princess went on, "That's what I see happening with Celia now. I have no right to ask anything of her. After all, she's just trying to protect her husband. And. . .it's just that. . .I love all three of you, and when things like this happen, I feel like I must choose between people I love. That's not something I like. Not in the least."  
  
Again, Evy paused and took a deep breath. She gently caressed the column of Ardeth's throat, as she had in the past two days when trying to get him to drink. It was something which Rick learned in the Legion, when one of his compatriots were unconscious for days, and they were trying to stave off dehydration. It was ironic, then, that it was something they had to fear here in London, so far from the desert.  
  
After a moment, she finally said, "Oh, listen to me! Forgive me, Ardeth, I shouldn't burden you. I do believe it's my pregnancy. . .Celia warned me that my emotions would be all over the place. I love you so much. I know I've already said that, but I think it should be said often, especially when. . .especially when you face losing someone you love. I should say it more often."  
  
She tenderly caressed the tattoo adorning his right cheek, and said, "You know, that's another reason you have to fight. Celia. Rick often says thinking about the children you and Celia would create together frightens him. Not me. I think you should fight for Celia, and the children you'll have one day."  
  
Evy smiled, picturing the children created by her brother and sister- in-law, and murmured, "They will be beautiful children with black hair and dark eyes. Golden skin, and a smile which would make the most sensible of women swoon. And those would just be the boys! They would be fierce children, willing to die or kill for those whom they love. And compassionate children, who do what they can for those who are helpless."  
  
Evy stroked Ardeth's cheek, saying softly, "But none of this can come about without you, Ardeth. You must fight, my sweet brother. You must. You'll not be alone. I promise you, you will never fight alone." Ardeth made no answer, and Evy sighed. She was out of things to say, but there was still much to be done. She soaked the washcloth and bathed his burning skin. All the time, she prayed that something would help him. Her brother couldn't do this for much longer.  
  
. . .  
  
Rick left Ardeth's room to clean up, change clothes, and maybe get some sleep. The cleaning up and changing clothes took very little time, and he did feel better. He should have been exhausted, sitting up all night with Ardeth. He should have been, but as he lay on his bed, Rick couldn't sleep. There were too many things going 'round in his head, not the least of which was his fears that this was one fight Ardeth couldn't win.  
  
On the plus side, his temperature seemed to be leveling off. But it was only a matter of time before they had to worry about brain damage. They continued to bathe him with ice water, cooling him as best they could. Rick remembered a trick he learned in the Legion, and it was in this way that they prevented Ardeth from getting dehydrated. Not 'they,' though. He was the only one in the room the first time he did it.  
  
And it felt strange. Rick learned that massaging a person's throat triggered an involuntary swallowing reflex. But before now, he never tried to do it. It felt strange to do it. It felt even stranger, touching a man whom he barely knew in some ways. He. . . Rick shook his head. The act was a curiously intimate one, though necessary. And he was gratified when it worked, when Ardeth swallowed the water, instead of choking.  
  
But this entire thing scared him. Rick didn't know how to deal with this. He was good with guns and with knives, with weapons of all sorts. He killed the Scorpion King once, killed Imhotep once, and watched him die a second time. But he didn't know how to deal with the possibility of losing his best friend for good. Things were changing so fast, he didn't know how to deal with that, either. He was afraid and in some ways, helpless, even though he was the one taking care of Ardeth most of the time.  
  
That was how he wanted it. A voice which sounded faintly familiar asked, *What you want? What about what Jonathan wants, or Evy, or Celia? Don't you think you've traded in one form of selfishness for another?* Rick's eyes flew open, and the voice continued, *And you're not the only one who's scared. Everyone is scared. The longer you fail to take others into account, the longer Ardeth will suffer.*  
  
Rick started to protest, that he was doing no such thing, when a memory slammed into his consciousness. Holding Evy as she died in the shadow of the Golden Pyramid. Feeling totally helpless. . .and the rage which surged over him, because he was so helpless. The voice continued, *Yes. What makes you think Cecelia Ferguson Bey feels any differently, watching her husband slip away from her than you did that day?*  
  
He never thought of it that way. He took the bulk of caring for Ardeth on his own shoulders, because he had to make things right with his friend. There was also the matter of Rick's own size. He was bigger than Ardeth, better able to subdue him when Ardeth's fever and delirium caused to lash out. Rick knew that his friend would never forgive himself if he hurt Celia or Alex or Evy while he was delirious.  
  
And maybe, he was punishing them. . .especially Celia. . .by trying to be a martyr. He was angry with her, so angry, for not even trying to see things from his point of view. But again, the voice pointed out, *And why should she? She did that once, and got nothing in return. You have been a selfish, ungrateful bastard, just as she said you were. Try to look at it from her point of view. Though I realize that might be difficult.*  
  
Damn. The damn voice had him *again.* This was really getting on his nerves. But even so, Rick did try. He tried to imagine being on his honeymoon and finding out that his best friend dug up something which should have remained hidden. That best friend was now in danger of dying, and he couldn't allow that to happen. Then he imagined Evy falling desperately ill while fending off the attackers.  
  
Okay. Celia had a very good reason for being so furious with him. And he admitted that in her place, he wouldn't even try to put his anger aside. In her place, he probably wouldn't have allowed him any where near Ardeth, but Celia was smarter than that. She knew she couldn't take care of her husband alone, and she took help where she could find it.  
  
Oh yeah. Definitely smarter than Rick. No question there. He closed his eyes. So, he acknowledged that he was still being selfish, and that Celia was not being unreasonable. That left him *where,* exactly? If his mysterious visitor knew, he or she wasn't telling. Rick reached up blindly to massage his temples. One thing was certain. When Ardeth was better, he and the chieftain needed to have a long, long talk.  
  
Rick took a deep breath. . .which left his lungs in a rush as Evy cried out, "RICK! Oh, God!" Rick bounded up and raced from the room, nearly colliding with Celia at the door to Ardeth's room. He grabbed her shoulders, righting her quickly, before dashing into the room. They found Evy back-pedaling toward the window, eyes wide.  
  
Celia's gasp and a moan from the bed redirected the big American's attention away from his wife. Ardeth's fever was rising once more, for he was having convulsions. He was thrashing on the bed, his body twisting about. To Rick's horrified mind, it was like seeing Imhotep regenerating during the first rising, with the way his body contorted after assimiliating the body fluids and organs of those who opened the chest.  
  
Ardeth moaned again, an anguished sound which brought Rick back to the present. He gave Celia a little push toward Evy, saying, "You take care of my wife, and I'll take care of your husband." He didn't wait for Celia to nod, but as Rick moved to the bed, he did see her go to Evy. Then all of his attention was on Ardeth. Earlier, he slipped behind his friend to restrain him. That wouldn't work this time.  
  
Instead, Rick grasped Ardeth's shoulders, sitting down on the bed at the same time. He wrapped both arms around his friend, pulling him against his chest, and tucking Ardeth's head under his chin. Like he held Alex after a nightmare. Ardeth gave a low moan of pain, and Rick tightened his arms around him. . .tightening yet again as his friend whispered something in Arabic. Rick slowed down his hearing, to listen intently.  
  
And then he closed his eyes. Ardeth whispered, "You must go, O'Connell, go save the girl. You must not let her die, you must not allow the Creature to win." A strange sound emerged, and Rick eased his hold, thinking that Ardeth was having a hard time breathing. He was, though not because of anything Rick was doing. His friend gasped, still speaking in Arabic, "I am tired. I am so tired. Forgive me, little brother. . .I did not want the burden to fall on you."  
  
"Evy, what's he saying?" Celia asked, her voice trembling, and Rick looked at the two women. They stood side by side, Celia's arms wrapped around Evy and Rick's wife leaning into her. Or was it the other way around? Rick couldn't tell. Evy whispered something to her friend, and Rick turned his attention back to Ardeth, who was still trapped in Hamunaptra, if only in his mind.  
  
Rick didn't know what to do, aside from what he was already doing. So, he just whispered, "It's okay, Ardeth. . .you're gonna get out of this. You're gonna get out of this, who else will save our asses when we do something stupid? We need you, buddy, we need you so much. You just hold on. . .hold on, your little brother is coming. Just close your eyes and rest. Shhh. It's all right, you'll be fine. Just hang on a little longer."  
  
Ardeth was murmuring in another language now, but he was calmer. Rick began rocking back and forth, trying to calm his friend further. For a second, his masculine pride rebelled at what he was doing. But his practical side reasserted itself. . .he would do what had to be done, to save Ardeth. And his masculine pride be damned. Ardeth went limp in Rick's arms.  
  
The American froze, but carefully lay Ardeth on the pillows. He was still breathing, thank God. Rick placed the back of his hand against his friend's forehead. Was it his imagination, or did Ardeth seem a little cooler? He couldn't be sure. And right now, he was too wrung out to really think about testing in a more scientific way. Instead, he rested his forehead against the headboard, squeezing Ardeth's shoulder.  
  
It was the only affectionate gesture which really seemed appropriate with Ardeth. Rick turned his head sideways, to look at the two wives. In some ways, so very different, and in other ways, so much alike. Evy and Celia, another east and west. Rick took a deep breath, then said hoarsely, "He should be okay for a while. These. . .spasms. . .take a lot out of him. He's usually quiet for a few hours. Will you be okay, Evy?"  
  
She nodded and Rick continued, "Check his temperature. He seems to be cooler now." His fever wasn't breaking. It wasn't like that. But. . .he was cooler. There was something important about that, but right now, Rick was too tired to think about it. He patted Ardeth's shoulder one last time, and lurched his feet. He needed to rest. Though desperately ill, Ardeth was still damn strong, and restraining him took a lot out of Rick.  
  
"Go, Celia. . .I'll be fine. You need to rest," Evy said softly, as she released her friend and walked over to Ardeth. She began caressing his hair, murmuring soft Arabic endearments to their brother. Celia stood at the foot of the bed, and Evy repeated, "I promise I'll take care of him for you. You've done a wonderful job of taking care of him, these last four months. Now it's my turn."  
  
"C'mon, kid. . .let the lady do her work," Rick said. Celia nodded, but walked around to the opposite side of the bed and leaned over to kiss Ardeth. Rick looked away, not wanting to intrude on the terribly private moment. Again, he remembered Ahm Shere, and his last kiss before Evy died in his arms. He kept thinking back to Ahm Shere, and putting Celia's reactions in perspective according to that.  
  
After a moment, Celia rose to her feet and walked unsteadily from the room, Rick right behind her. They made it maybe halfway down the hall, then Rick stopped. He slowly slid down the wall, his legs no longer able to hold him. He rested his head on his knees, vaguely aware of Celia sliding to the ground beside him. Down the hall, Evy was singing to Ardeth. Lullabies. She was singing lullabies to a grown man.  
  
But Rick couldn't bring himself to even smile. He didn't have the energy. At last, tired of the silence, Rick finally found the energy to raise his head. He looked at Celia, finding her hazel eyes boring into him. She wanted answers. To what, Rick didn't know. He couldn't even begin to guess. Instead, he decided to give the answers he did have. He starting by telling her, "I do care about him, you know."  
  
Celia nodded. Well, that was something. Considering how often Rick accused Ardeth of bringing trouble to their door, he figured this was going well. She replied, sounding as exhausted as Rick felt, "I know that. I just wish you would remember that, instead of lashing out when you and Evy get into trouble." Rick winced, though it was a fair comment. Not a new observation on her part, but no less valid. After a moment, she added, "And I didn't want to be dragging your ass out of the fire on my honeymoon, any more than I wanted my husband to be fighting for his life."  
  
Something else which was mentioned more than once, but again, it was a valid point. He should have been annoyed with her harping on that point, but what right did he have to be annoyed, considering how many times he almost got her husband killed? He wasn't entirely sure where that thought came from, but it was true. How many times did Ardeth risk his life for Rick's family? Too many times. Way too many times.  
  
With that in mind, Rick was quiet for a long time, then said, "I guess. . .I guess I do lash out at Ardeth. Only because I know I can trust him enough to take it. I just forgot that even he has a breaking point." And there it was. The plain, unvarnished truth. It was ugly, but the truth often was. Ardeth often called him his friend, but he wasn't. Ardeth was his friend, yes, but this particular street was one-way, at least up to this point.  
  
Celia sighed, sounding very old. She was only thirty years old, but right now, she sounded closer to seventy. Rick once more had to consider the effects of the last few days on her. He didn't know who owned the mysterious voice in his head, but they were right. The last few days, he. . .yeah. He was being selfish. Celia finally said, "He's a human being, Mr O'Connell, not a verbal punching bag."  
  
Ouch. Okay, he deserved that. Even if it did hurt like hell. Still, there was a part of him which was angry with Ardeth for accepting it from him. Why the hell did he do that? But Rick didn't ask. There was a good chance she would punch him in the face if he did. Instead, he answered, "I know that. I'm. . .I guess what I'm trying to say is. . .I don't do the softer feelings real well. Hell, until I met Evy, until Alex came into our lives. . .I didn't have any softer feelings."  
  
Celia gave him a Look which said that he was stating the obvious. Rick continued, "You remember what you told me once? About how you fell in love with Ardeth because he was stronger and more mature than anyone you ever knew?" That took place on the way back to Cairo, as Ardeth faced Khaldun the first time. Celia favored him with another look, and Rick said, "What I'm trying to say is. . . aw hell! I don't even know." He shook his head, frustrated.  
  
He must have given Celia what she wanted, for she finally took pity on him. She said in a low voice, "What you're trying to say is, you care a lot more for my husband than you're willing to admit. That scares the hell out of you, so when he shows up to save your ass. . .again. . .you're so damn relieved, and scared by that relief, that you lash out at him and treat him like he's your servant, at your beck and call. Close enough?"  
  
Rick laughed nervously, scratching the side of his face. After a second he felt Celia's eyes still on him and he glanced at her. In some ways, she was just like Ardeth. Quiet. Steady. Forever there. And like Ardeth, she could be damn stubborn. He wondered what their arguments were like, since they were both so stubborn. Rick finally said softly, "Yeah." He quickly looked away once more with a sigh. He could still feel Celia's eyes boring into him, and Rick added, "I guess that's a good way of putting it."  
  
Well, they were making headway. A sigh was released from his companion, and Rick looked back at her. She was no longer glowering at him, but he wasn't off the hook yet. Damn. He thought Imhotep's priests didn't give up, but they didn't have nothing on this small, dark-haired woman. Celia folded her arms over her chest, saying softly, "So the question remains, Mr. O'Connell. What will you do now?"  
  
"Well, I guess I owe him an apology," Rick answered. "Or two. Or ten." He wasn't so sure, though, that even apologizing would help in this situation. How exactly did one apologize to one's best friend for being, in his wife's ever so blunt terms, 'a selfish, ungrateful ass,' especially when that friend was repeatedly injured because of you being that selfish, ungrateful ass? How many apologies did he owe Ardeth? Just ten?  
  
His companion evidently agreed with him. Celia raised her eyebrows and asked almost impishly, "Oh, you'll just stop with ten, huh?" Okay, she didn't have to put it like that! But there was no hint of an apology in the hazel eyes which held his own. Rick remembered briefly locking gazes with her inside Hamunaptra, as the dust rained down around them, bringing back memories of the first time he was inside that damned city.  
  
No apology was forthcoming, and Rick asked with an exasperated sigh, "Well, Queen of the Med-jai, what do you suggest?" One of these days, he would learn not to ask her questions like that. She never hesitated to tell him exactly what he thought, and asking her what she suggested he do was like Evy asking 'what harm ever came from. . .' and fill in the blanks with 'reading a book,' or 'opening the chest,' or anything like that.  
  
Celia answered, no longer joking, "Be honest with him. And don't let his macho posturing, or your own, stop you. Don't let him tell you it's all right. Because it's not all right, and while Ardeth would die before admitting it, you hurt him. You're the cause of most of our arguments. I don't like the way you treat my husband, especially when your wife and children are involved, and it bugs me the way my husband brushes it off."  
  
That didn't surprise him. Rick exhaled slowly, then replied, "I know. I know it bothers you, and I figured you two usually argue about me. I just. . .I don't know how to make things right. An apology. . .it's such a little thing. I don't know how to make this right." Rick paused, then added, "If it was Evy whom I hurt, I could. . .well, you get the idea. But I don't know what to do to make it up to Ardeth."  
  
Celia raised her eyebrows and asked dryly, "Aside from buying him a Thompson? I'm well aware of my husband's affection for those damn things. At least he keeps his weapons away from the children." She sounded so much like Evy right then, though Evy was growing more comfortable with firearms.  
  
Rick laughed and ducked his head, replying, "Yeah, aside from that. Evy told me earlier, while we were talking, that Ardeth found you through us, and that counted for something." That wasn't all she said, of course, but he wasn't about to tell Celia that. She was being reasonable, Rick didn't want to test her patience when he was actually getting along with the little tigress.  
  
The young woman replied, "But it doesn't take the place of an apology, especially not with everything else which has happened. Evy told me about him saving her life after Imhotep's first rising. She told me that he was shot while protecting her. And. . .some of the other Med-jai told me the rest of the story." Ouch. That meant she knew about him lashing out at Ardeth, slamming his already-badly injured friend into the wall.  
  
They were both silent, while the man tried to figure out what to say. At last, Rick answered with a deep sigh, "I'll make things right with him. But. . .I gotta do it my way. I swear to you. Things will be different. But this is something I gotta do in my own way." That was important. He would make things right with Ardeth, but he would do it on his terms, and in a way he understood, in a way Ardeth would understand. He wasn't a sentimental man, and neither was Ardeth.  
  
It seemed that the young woman was fine with that. Celia replied, "That's all I ask. Because. . .this is a promise, not a threat. I will not tolerate you ever hurting my husband again." Rick knew better than to scoff at her. He already found out what she would do to protect Ardeth; he found that out in his Cairo home. Rick just nodded and Celia rested her head once more against the wall. The truce was made. Now all they had to do was get Ardeth back.  
  
. . .  
  
*Well, that was interesting!* Anck said after a moment. Her companion glanced at her, noticing Anck's reaction to Ardeth's convulsions. She tried to ignore how badly they frightened her, and instead, tried to focus on the conversation between Celia and Rick. After a moment, however, she gave up even trying. And wisely, Ardath made no attempt to tease her friend, or even remind Anck that less than a year earlier, she was trying to kill the young chieftain. Besides, the younger concubine was too badly shaken.  
  
Instead, she observed, *O'Connell surprised me. I never would have thought he had the courage to simply pull my child into his arms, regardless of his masculine pride.* Anck gave her a grateful smile, and Ardath smiled back, continuing, *and my spirit-twin did a wonderful job of cutting him down to size. Perhaps my daughter had the right of it, when she volunteered to be reborn as the O'Connell daughter.*  
  
Ardath knew this was her daughter's choice. But that didn't stop her from wishing that her daughter chose someone other than Rick O'Connell as her new father. She told Jonathan Carnahan that she believed his brother- in-law *was* a good man. And that was true. But, when all was said and done, she really didn't like him. She tolerated him, and aided where she could, but if she was totally honest. . .she didn't like him.  
  
She said none of this to Anck, in part because she knew how her forever friend felt. And, they had other things to do. In the last few mortal days, Ardath realized that she, Anck, and Rameses were allowed to do what they did, because it fit into the plans of the gods. More specifically, the plans of Horus and Isis, the long-time guardians of the Med-jai. The Guardians. It was their followers who attacked the O'Connell home, and it was their followers who carried the dagger responsible for Ardeth's current condition.  
  
She, Rameses, and Anck were part of a plan hatched by the mother and son deities to teach Rick O'Connell a lesson he would never forget about responsibility and friendship. A lesson which was ongoing, Ardath recently learned, despite the American's recent strides. The pair vowed to see this to the end, and the only thing the concubine could do was hope that it didn't end with the death of her namesake and distant child.  
  
That, and make sure Anck didn't find out. In human terms, she was on probation. If she messed up, she would be right back where she started, and for obvious reasons, Ardath didn't want that. They weren't exactly together, as they were in the old days, but they weren't separated, as they were for the last three thousand years. Ardath didn't want them to be separated, ever again. She wanted them to be reborn as friends once more.  
  
Perhaps because of that knowledge, Ma'at further instructed Ardath to tell Anck nothing of what Ma'at disclosed. Ma'at knew Ardath better than anyone else, save Rameses and Hathor, and she knew how difficult it was for the younger concubine to keep secrets of any kind from her best friend. So. . .she made it a little easier. Ardath knew that, and appreciated the consideration she received from the goddess.  
  
Making it even easier, Ma'at also told her that the current situation would not last much longer. . .a mortal day, if that. They were waiting for O'Connell to open his heart, and for Evelyn O'Connell to open her ears. Ardath wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but she was grateful that she wouldn't keep things from Anck for much longer. Even in situations like this, where a goddess bade her to do something, and Ardath was trying to protect Anck, she still found it difficult to keep things from her sister.  
  
But fortunately, she now had three thousand years of experience in shielding her mind when she desired. Ardath's attention was drawn away from the conspiracy of the gods, when Anck asked, *Do you think O'Connell takes Celia seriously, when she warns him to never hurt Ardeth again, or he will answer to her?* Ardath looked at her friend, then looked at the pair sitting in the hall. They both looked exhausted, and there was no hint of humor in either pair of eyes. The younger concubine smiled in spite of herself.  
  
*Oh yes, my friend,* Ardath answered, *he does indeed take her seriously. O'Connell has many flaws, many times many. But he is no fool. He has seen the wrath of my spirit-twin, and he has seen mine, and he wants not it to touch him a second time. Do you remember, Anck, hearing about Greek fire in your successive lifetimes? I do, my sister, and Terumun reborn is not foolish enough to wish it used upon him.*  
  
There was a long silence, then Anck said plaintively, *I do hate it, my sister, when you talk like that. You do not sound like my forever friend.* Ardath gave her friend a brief, bright smile, and Anck continued sadly, *You have changed so much, over these millenia, my friend. I have only myself to blame. . .my stupidity kept me away from you.* Ardath turned to face her best friend and cupped her face in her hands.  
  
*That will be enough of that, Anck-su-namun. I am still your Ardath, still the little girl whom you protected when we were small. I am still the girl whom you half-carried to the concubine apartments after an attack. Never said that I am not the same, for I am. I have grown, hopefully, in wisdom, but I am still your friend, still your sister,* Ardath answered fiercely. She saw Anck swallow hard, and Ardath added more gently, *Do you not understand yet, Anck? Yes, I have changed. But my heart is still the same.*  
  
*I suppose that is what frightens me, about myself and Meela. Why I keep questioning whether I abandoned Imhotep and stabbed Nefertiri reborn, or if it was Meela,* Anck admitted. Ardath turned to face her friend more fully, now understanding why the other girl needed reassurance. It made sense, and Ardath struggled to find the words she needed, the words which would allow her to explain things.  
  
*Meela was your reincarnation, my dear friend. She was not you, just as Celia is not me, and just as Evy O'Connell is not Nefertiri. Our experiences change us. . .Meela grew up in a different time, in a different world than you, and that makes the difference. You know that while Rameses was reborn in Ardeth, they are not the same person. Why is it so difficult for you to accept that you and Meela are not the same?* Ardath asked.  
  
She paused, then continued, *Do you remember what you said in the temple of Ahm Shere, when Evy O'Connell stopped the fight with her brother Jonathan? You said, 'good.' That was you speaking, my sister, you retook control. That was not Meela. Meela wanted her out of the way, wanted her dead. But you wanted closure. You wanted to face her.* Ardath didn't mention the other possibility. . .that Evy was stabbed to bring Nefertiri back with her. That possibility gave her a headache.  
  
She could tell from Anck's expression that her friend *wanted* to believe her. For now, that was all Ardath could ask. In some ways, her best friend had a terrible self-esteem problem, believing for so long that her beauty was the only thing in her favor. After a moment, her sister replied quietly, *What must we do now? Horus and Isis are still waiting for the O'Connells to do something. What are we to do in the meantime, and please do not tell me nothing. You know I am incapable of doing nothing.*  
  
*Give Celia your strength. She keeps so much hidden, Anck, her fear, her frustration, and her anger. You are not the helpless one, my forever friend. . .there is no more I may do,* Ardath answered. She could tell from Anck's expression that the other girl hadn't considered this. . .first understanding, then guilt. Ardath sighed, preparing herself for yet another go-around with alleviating her sister's guilt at 'failing' her.  
  
However, Anck-su-namun proved that she was still capable of surprising Ardath. The older girl replied determinedly, *Then I shall give her the strength of us both. I will comfort her for both of us.* Ardath gave her a surprised smile, and Anck shrugged, adding with a shy smile, *I gave Celia my word that I would pull no more pranks while we were in England, and I swore to her that I would not leave her.*  
  
Ardath reached over and squeezed her friend's hand, smiling at her. Anck returned the squeeze and the smile, saying bravely, *I swore to myself that I would make you proud of me, my sister. That is one promise I have no intention of breaking.* Ardath said nothing, though she was already proud of her sister. This was something Anck had to work through on her own.  
  
. . .  
  
*Well, we are making very good progress!* the woman said. Ardeth looked from his prone body to his two companions, and raised his eyebrows questioningly. Annabelle said complacently, *Well, we are. You see, dear boy, all of this this happening for a reason.* Yes, Ardeth figured that part out, but what he didn't know was, what the standards were for their progress. How did she know they were making progress?  
  
He wasn't the only one who was thinking that, he found. Thomas sighed, *Annabelle, please, be a little more specific. The boy doesn't have access to our information.* Annabelle actually pouted, and Thomas continued, looking back at Ardeth, *You see, son, all of this was set into motion by the gods of your people, Horus and Isis. It was they who engineered the attack in the O'Connell house.*  
  
Ardeth's mind was reeling. He knew all of this was happening for a reason, but this was a little more than he was expecting. Annabelle picked up where her husband left off, *Horus and Isis want to teach O'Connell. . .and the rest of his family. . .a lesson. Since they consider Med-jai blood so cheap. . .their words, not mine. . .Ardath, Rameses, and Anck-su- namun were permitted to show them alternative realities.*  
  
Alternative realities? Those words made Ardeth very, very nervous. Annabelle nodded, continuing, *Yes, my grandson. They were shown several possibilities. What would have happened to the O'Connell family, had your brother Andreas led the raid against Hamunaptra. Another change. . .what would have happened, if Horus was not shot out of the sky by that horrid giant, Lock-nah. And finally. . .the possibility of Imhotep arising twenty years earlier, while you and the others were still children.*  
  
That frightened Ardeth, and Thomas explained, *We know, son, which is why only Jonathan Carnahan saw that reality. The world would have been a far worse place, though Imhotep would have been destroyed in the long-run. It would have taken even more Med-jai blood, though. And each of you. . .you, our granddaughter, O'Connell, Evy, her brother Jonathan. . .would have been much different people.*  
  
Ardeth didn't ask how. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. And it wasn't important, for Annabelle put in, *And the important thing is, you'll soon return to our granddaughter. Rick O'Connell is more prepared to listen to the gods. . .and so is his wife. They ask for nothing more than Evy O'Connell to stop and think about what she does, about the consequences to her family and to the protectors of the desert.*  
  
Thomas muttered, *That may be asking too much.* He looked up at Ardeth, saying, *I know she's your sister, son, and she's Celia's best friend. But even at her age, she still doesn't think things through. I have no reason to trust her, not with the safety of my granddaughter, or the children to come. And there will be children, son, that I promise.* Ardeth felt a little dizzy, thinking about those children.  
  
*Well, if she doesn't learn after this, she never will. I give her credit, Thomas, she tries to put things right. I just wish she would stop and think. She's grown up, but. . . perhaps it's simply the times. People no longer believe in curses. How was it that she put it? Oh, that's right. . .she called them fairy tales and hokum. The People knew the dangers of curses, and I learned to respect words from them,* Annabelle replied.  
  
Before he could stop himself, the words were out, and Ardeth heard himself ask, *Then she learned it from you. . .her respect for the ways of others?* Annabelle smiled brightly, and Ardeth admitted, *That was one reason I fell in love with her. She judged not my ancestors for the way they looked at death and the afterlife. And while I know the stupidity of my ancestors, in the casting of the hom-dai, angered her. . .*  
  
*More than you know. Celia understands, of course, that Imhotep and Anck killed the pharaoh, and they had to be punished. But the hom-dai was too much. She would not say such a thing, of course, even now that it has been acknowledged by the Elders. My granddaughter is still learning where her boundaries are, as the chieftain's wife. But it is something you should know,* Annabelle replied.  
  
That didn't surprise Ardeth. . .any of it. He sensed that the hom- dai angered his wife, and he knew that she avoided interfering in Med-jai business. The only times they argued about Imhotep, aside from his request for Celia to teach him, was when it also involved O'Connell.  
  
That actually worried Ardeth a little. Not that he argued with his wife in the privacy of their tent, but that they argued so rarely. It worried him, but Annabelle's words set things into perspective for him. If Celia was worried about overstepping her boundaries as his wife, she might be less likely to tell him when something was bothering her. Ardeth quietly resolved to talk to her about that.  
  
Their arguments were usually about O'Connell. Celia could never understood why he accepted the way O'Connell was, though she came close when he told her of the similarities between the American and his older brother Andreas. Put in those terms, that it was like a family, she understood that. She understood, better than anyone, about putting up with more from one's family than from anyone else.  
  
Seldom. . .very seldom. . .did they argue about Miranda. The only time they argued about their daughter was before they were married, and Ardeth talked Celia out of doing anything hasty to Sanure. He wished now that he kept his mouth shut, and allowed her to do what she thought was right. He was trying to protect her, and his people, but he wasn't so sure that Sanure deserved to be protected from his wife's fury.  
  
*Now that things have been sorted out between O'Connell and Celia,* Thomas observed, *you'll have fewer arguments with her about him. There will be other arguments, of course, as she becomes more comfortable in her new role as your wife and the queen of the twelve tribes. Lord, that sounds like a bad movie.* Ardeth grinned and Thomas continued, *Just keep doing what you're doing, son. You'll be just fine.*  
  
*And that's the only amount of information we can give you about the future, sweet boy, or it's cheating,* Annabelle added. Ardeth just blinked. . .did he ask for more? Annabelle replied apologetically, *No, of course you didn't. It's just. . . well, we would like to give you more information. However, that's been banned, so. . .* Ardeth blinked again. And they were telling him this because. . .? Annabelle actually blushed.  
  
*Don't mind her, son, she's in her protective grandmother mode. You should have seen her when Jason set up the abduction in the bazaar. I think if it were possible for us to inflict physical damage on someone in the world of the living, she would have done it,* Thomas explained. Annabelle glared at him, and Thomas spread his hands, adding, *Well, it's true, honey. You were angry with the boy, not that I blame you.*  
  
Now they were giving him a headache. Ardeth turned his attention back to his prone body, and Evy maintaining her vigil at his side. He knew that she loved him, but this surprised him. She sang lullabies and stroked his hair, sponging him down with cold water even as she talked to him about whatever happened to come to her mind.  
  
Outside his room were O'Connell and Celia. Ardeth wanted to return to his wife. She looked exhausted and scared and frustrated. Her emotions were close to the surface, even as she hid them from O'Connell. She didn't trust him. Even as she told him exactly what she wanted from him, she didn't trust him. Ardeth didn't blame her. The American's words, about endangering Evy and the baby, still rankled.  
  
*He didn't mean it, son,* Thomas said quietly, *I know it doesn't help, because he shouldn't say things he doesn't mean. He knows, better than anyone, that you're willing to die to protect his family. You've proven it a thousand times. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, after being in the right place at the right time. It doesn't excuse what he did, but . .*  
  
*Neither love nor friendship can function without trust,* Ardeth answered, turning his attention back to Thomas, *and I am not inclined to trust O'Connell any longer. He will receive another chance. His actions demand that. But I will not, as my wife says, hold my breath and expect the second chance to make much of a difference.* That was the best he could do, and it seemed, that was all Thomas was asking.  
  
The other man said gently, *And that is all anyone can ask. If you want me to be honest, I expect nothing from him. Rick O'Connell will never change. His family will always be his first priority, and he will always shed the blood of allies to protect his family.* Ardeth nodded, suddenly feeling very tired. Yes, O'Connell would get another chance. But Ardeth would protect his heart much better this time.  
  
. . .  
  
Isis knew that Thomas spoke the truth, but O'Connell was on the verge of accepting that Ardeth was a member of his family. He spoke the words, but he did not yet accept it in his heart. Isis was willing to give him that, though her son was another story. Horus did not believe O'Connell accepted that Ardeth was his brother in all the ways that mattered, nor did he believe O'Connell loved the Med-jai as that brother. Something which Isis knew for a fact, as much as O'Connell denied it.  
  
He was actually doing much better than she anticipated. For one thing, she never expected him to capitulate so quickly when his wife asked him to go after the Med-jai children of Horus and Isis. The goddess expected him to put up much more of a fight. However. . .she would not complain, not when his timely arrival at the train station made things that much easier for Isis. Even so, the goddess was disappointed in O'Connell, far more disappointed than she was in his wife.  
  
Evelyn Carnahan O'Connell, though she ignored Ardeth's warnings, did not blame him for her own misdeeds. Perhaps O'Connell did not, but he behaved as if he did, and it was time that behavior ceased. Evelyn was slowly learning, but Isis planned to give her a little push. She knew that the mortal woman would always be curious. Isis didn't wish to change Evelyn. . .she just wanted her to think first. And, Isis wanted O'Connell to think before he reacted.  
  
Perhaps she was asking too much of the American Med-jai. . .but she and her brothers and sister gods made him a Western Med-jai for a reason. Balance needed to be restored, over and above the balance provided by Ardath reborn, a child of Isis herself. That was why some Med-jai converted to Islam, to maintain the balance within the small nation (it was just too bad, she decided, that not all gods revered balance). Though he helped to defeat Imhotep twice and the Scorpion King once, O'Connell failed in his task.  
  
He could only succeed when he stopped denying that which he was. That was what helped him to defeat both evils. That was why he could not defeat Khaldun. Celia and Ardath did that, together. Ardeth had the right of it. Once O'Connell accepted that he was a Med-jai, once he stopped denying what his heart told him to be true, once he stopped fighting that he and Ardeth were brothers, nothing could stand against the pair. There was one other thing. . .O'Connell was needed to balance Ardeth himself.  
  
Even now, as the memories of Terumun returned, O'Connell still fought against that past life, and everything it entailed. Unlike his wife, and Ardath reborn, O'Connell refused to allow Terumun to guide him when it became necessary. Meanwhile, on the other hand, Ardeth and his previous incarnations related too strongly to Rameses. One swung to one extreme, and the other, of course. . .went to the other extreme.  
  
Isis could only do so much. As human beings, O'Connell and others made choices for themselves. That did not stop her from wanting to break his neck. Perhaps that was why Ma'at feared allowing her plan to go forward. Ma'at knew that Isis had little patience where O'Connell was concerned. And she was concerned. The American was still maturing in many ways, bringing balance to Ardeth. They were of an age, O'Connell was only a year older, but Ardeth grew up entirely too fast.  
  
Isis could hear the thoughts and concerns of Ardeth, while he kept company with the grandparents of his wife. She knew he no longer trusted O'Connell. There was some anger, yes, but the stronger emotion was resignation. He was tired. The poison in his body was taking its toll on his spirit. It hurt her, to see him in such pain. He was Med-jai, one of her children, and like all mothers, she hated to see her children hurting.  
  
She turned her attention back to O'Connell, who still sat outside Ardeth's room with Celia. The Western Med-jai, too, was one of her children, one hidden from her for years. She still knew not why that happened, but Isis was determined to find out. Isis listened intently to the human's thoughts. So. He wanted Ardeth back, did he? He wanted to make things right on his own terms, rather than Celia's?  
  
Understandable, of course, since the little queen, as the priest called her, was quite capable of asking O'Connell to grovel. Isis didn't blame her child for that in the least, but she also knew that forcing O'Connell to grovel would be of no help to the Med-jai chieftain. Well, in that case, perhaps it was time for the final move to be made. Perhaps it was time she and Horus made their appearance.  
  
Ardeth's strength waned by the hour. The only thing staying her hand now was the clear exhaustion of everyone in the house. She wanted them awake and paying attention, not dead on their respective pairs of feet. They could not pay attention, proper attention, if they were exhausted. She sensed her son's presence at her side, and said quietly, *The time draws near, my son, and with it, the end of Ardeth Bey's strength.*  
  
*I know, I have begun the process which will slow the poison, so Ardeth will have no more convulsions. He will be as still as death,* the young god replied. Isis looked at him, and her son added, *He will not disturb their sleep, and they are, I am sure, quite capable of checking his pulse to assure themselves he is still alive. Mother, what about Celia? She is not responsible for this."  
  
"I know, my son, and I have plans to protect her. At least somewhat, for I cannot protect her totally. If you fear that she will be caught in the crossfire, once the final lesson begins, you should fear not. That, I will not allow,* Isis assured her son. She paused, then added, *I am grateful, though, that Celia and Ardeth did not take their daughter on their honeymoon. You know how protective Miranda is of them both.*  
  
Unexpectedly, Horus laughed, *Mother, she would have attacked us both, if she even thought we hurt her mother or Ardeth! That is why I have Chosen her!* Isis looked at her son, startled. She knew that Ardeth was his Chosen, his primary Chosen, and was for many years. It was rare indeed for her son to Chose someone as young as Miranda. She would celebrate her fifth birthday when her parents returned from their honeymoon.  
  
However, she could not argue with her son on at least one point. Little Miranda would have, indeed, attacked them if she thought the mother and son deities harmed her parents. Isis wondered if she should point out to her mortal daughter Celia that a coward could have never raised such a fierce little warrior. After a moment, she decided against it. Celia now knew the truth about herself. Was starting to learn about her own courage.  
  
Isis turned her attention back to the mortals. It was almost time. O'Connell was making a separate, and somewhat strained, peace with her mortal daughter. Celia had not the strength or the energy to lash out at the other American. It was almost time to draw this to a close. Almost time to end this, and start putting the pieces back together again. Mortals were puzzles in more ways than one, she came to realize over the millennia.  
  
*Tomorrow morning then, Mother?* Horus asked. Isis nodded slowly. Yes. Tomorrow morning would see the end of this exercise. She wished to teach Rick O'Connell a lesson he would never forget. . .but they were all growing weary, and it was much harder to learn when one was exhausted. Horus added, almost growling, *And I have a few things I wish to say to Mr. O'Connell myself!*  
  
Isis smiled at her son. Yes, of that, she was sure. In some ways, O'Connell disappointed her son more than he disappointed her. But it was almost over. At least there was that consolation. 


	9. Light at the End of the Tunnel

Hellllllllllo, I'm back! And I only have one (maybe two) chapters left to write. I plan on working on them this weekend. It's great to be back! I would also like to take this opportunity to welcome my new sister-in-law RyAne, and her four children, to the family. Yes, I now have three new nieces and a new nephew. . .and the nephew's name is Alex!  
  
Reviewers:  
  
Sailor Elf: You'll get your wish! (smiles) Trust me. Just trust me.  
  
Cindy: Thanks, I had a great time while I was away, and got even more story ideas. Not just for the Mummy series fics, but for my other fics, like UC: UnderCover. Now, if I could just find my diskette for UC. . .  
  
Deana: Oh dear-heart, you could never be like Rick. That is SO not your style! As for Ardeth.well, you'll see in this chapter!  
  
What Might Have Been  
  
Part Eight  
  
There was one person who was forgotten in the rush, who was just as frightened for Ardeth as the others. That was nine year old Alex O'Connell, whose life was turned upside down once more. And the knowledge that he had nothing to do with this particular catastrophe didn't help much. The little boy understood that right now, Ardeth needed his parents. He also understood that his parents *needed* to be with Ardeth.  
  
But that didn't prevent the nine year old from feeling left out. . .or frightened. And worse yet, Alex wasn't sure what frightened him more. Seeing Ardeth so helpless, or seeing the obvious fear and guilt in his parents' eyes. While he was among the Med-jai, the young boy often heard the young warriors speak ill of his father. Alex never found it easy to keep his tongue still, but the young, fierce warriors made him uneasy.  
  
They didn't know his father as he did, of course. They didn't know how Dads saved him from Lock-nah, and some of them didn t care. Some of them lost brothers, fathers, and friends because Alex put the Bracelet of Anubis on. And even more of them lost people during Imhotep's first rising, back when Alex was a baby. The youngster could understand how the Med-jai would resent them. . .but Dads was. . .well. . .he was Dads.  
  
And not all the Med-jai resented Mum and Dads. It was mainly the young warriors. . . and Ardeth's sisters. And his mother Altair did a lot more than just resent him. Alex shuddered, remembering the confrontation between his father and the woman, after Ardeth and Dads rescued Auntie Celia from Khaldun's followers. And that brought something else up.  
  
Auntie Celia. When she first arrived in Egypt with Miranda and Jason, she was different. For one thing, she was a lot quieter. For another, she got along a lot better with Dads in the beginning. Uncle Jon told him that part of the problem was that Dads told Auntie Celia something he shouldn't have. He didn't specify exactly what Dads said. . .just said that he talked about something that wasn't any of his business.  
  
Alex also knew that Auntie Celia was upset with Dads, because Khaldun took control of him at Hamunaptra, when they went to save Miranda. Mum was upset with him, too, but Auntie Celia still hadn't forgiven him for that. Alex wondered about that. . .why she could forgive Alex and Mum for their parts in Imhotep's awakening, and the Scorpion King's, but she couldn't forgive Dads when he didn't actually do anything wrong.  
  
Uncle Jon, who was usually Alex's co-conspirator and partner-in- crime, was curiously silent about this. When the boy questioned it, Uncle Jon simply answered that Auntie Celia had her reasons for her troubled relationship with his father. And those were his exact words, too. It occurred to Alex to remind his uncle that he was a kid, but he wasn't stupid. But a quick glance at Uncle Jon kept him silent. His uncle was worried. . .very worried about Ardeth.  
  
Everyone was worried about Ardeth, and Alex was no exception. To a lesser degree, Mum and Uncle Jon were worried about Auntie Celia, and to an equal degree, Dads was worried about Mum. She would give birth to Alex's little sister any day now. Alex tried to help. He sometimes ran errands for his father, by getting more water for the basin. But right now, Alex's mother was with Ardeth, and Auntie Celia was sitting in the hallway with Dads.  
  
He knew he wasn't supposed to, but he listened to his father and aunt. He couldn't hear much of it. . . they were both talking too quietly. Something which also frightened Alex, since 'quiet' was one word he would never use in association with his father. Ardeth actually was very quiet, though Alex didn't think so when he first met him. But, he couldn't really blame Ardeth for that. Especially not when he was cramped in that trunk, all the way to Alex's house.  
  
At last, the two adults fell silent. This was a different silence than the one Alex noticed in the last few days. That one was. . .frightened. Tense. Alex sometimes had the feeling that everyone was holding their respective breaths. . .that kind of silence. This was much more relaxed. The kind of silence between two people after something very important was settled. And that made Alex relax as well.  
  
Auntie Celia leaned back against the wall. Dads rose to his feet after Mum called him, and left Auntie Celia there. Alex watched as his father walked into the room, then slipped from his hiding place and sat down beside Auntie Celia, his mum's best friend and Ardeth's wife. She was family, for those two reasons. Ardeth was Mum's brother in their previous lifetimes. And, according to Mum, in other lifetimes, Ardeth and Dads were brothers, too.  
  
She opened her eyes and looked at him, asking softly, "You okay, kiddo?" Alex wasn't sure what to say. Was he all right? No, not really. He was scared and angry. But he didn't want to say no, because. . . because it wasn't his family who was in danger. It was hers. Alex overheard his mum saying that the timing was so terrible. . .Auntie Celia and Ardeth just got married. It wasn't fair that they were going through this, when they had so little time together.  
  
And Alex was afraid Auntie Celia would get mad at him, as she was so often angry with Dads. There were times when the nine year old was angry with her for that. She said a second later, her voice very soft, "You know. . .it's okay for you to be scared. Things have been a little crazy lately, and I know you've been worried about your mother. There's nothing wrong with being scared and even angry."  
  
Alex looked at her quickly, not sure if he should be worried that she knew what he was thinking, or reassured. His aunt's eyes were gentle and sad. As if she didn't have the energy to be angry. That was almost as frightening as the arguments she sometimes had with his father. If she didn't have the energy to be angry. . . Alex wasn't sure what that meant, but it couldn't be good. Especially since she just finished a conversation with his father.  
  
Alex answered, "But I can't be angry or scared, because Ardeth isn't my father, or my brother." Auntie Celia smiled at him almost sadly, and Alex continued, growing more confident now that he knew she wouldn't yell at him, "Dads pretends. . .pretended like he didn't care as much about Ardeth as he cares about me and about Mum, but that's all it is. He knows Ardeth better than I do. I can't be scared."  
  
But he was. His companion said nothing, and after a moment, Alex asked, "Auntie Celia? Why do you and Dads not get along?" His aunt looked at him closely, and Alex added, "And please don't tell me that I'll understand when I'm older. I hate it when adults say that. It's like they think I'm stupid." A ghost of a smile came and went on Auntie Celia's face, then she looked away from him. Alex was on the point of demanding her attention, but decided not to.  
  
He was glad a moment later, when Auntie Celia said softly, "You know, I always hated it when people told me that. I understand why adults do it. . .it's because we don't want to admit that we don't fully understand something, either. And because it's so hard for us to explain something to ourselves. Like when Khaldun took over Ardeth's body, and I couldn't bring myself to tell Miranda that I smashed a vase over his head."  
  
"But you weren't hurting Ardeth, you were hurting Khaldun and preventing him from killing my father. That wasn't your fault," Alex pointed out. Auntie Celia nodded, though she still didn't look convinced. After a moment, the little boy said, "I need to ask you another question. Why do you. . .I mean, adults. . .think that you always have to understand something? Why can't you just tell us that you don t know something?"  
  
"Because, honey, we think we're supposed to know everything. We think we have to know everything, because we're the adult. When I was growing up, my parents were the same way. Or, they wouldn't even bother with, 'you'll understand when you get older.' It was just the way it was, and if I knew what was good for me, I wouldn't ask any more questions. My grandparents. . .they were different. They understood that telling me that they were scared or didn t know wouldn't frighten me. . .it would make me feel better," Auntie Celia replied.  
  
She paused, then said, "And you asked me why I don't get along with your father. There are a lot of reasons. I don't want to insult your intelligence by saying that it's something you can't understand. That's patronizing, and my grandparents raised me better than that. Your dad loves you and your mom more than anything else in this world. He would do anything for you, anything at all, and that's good. That's how it should be."  
  
Auntie Celia stopped, rubbed her hand over her eyes, then went on, "But when your dad thinks that everyone else's first priority should be his family, that's when there's trouble. That's why so many of the Med-jai don t like your dad. Because he only wants my husband around when your father needs something from him. At least, that's the side which he shows to the Med-jai, and to most people. So, they think that's all he really cares about."  
  
Alex started to protest, to defend his father, but Auntie Celia looked at him somberly. She asked very softly, "What did your father do, Alex, when my husband came to your aid in London? Was he happy to see him? Or did he blame him for Evy taking the Bracelet of Anubis? Or rather, for those consequences?" She knew the answer, of course. . .Alex knew that she knew about what happened. All of what happened.  
  
"But Dads didn't really mean it! He was just scared!" Alex exclaimed. He was scared, too. He was scared when that man took his mother, and scared when he heard the alarm in Ardeth's voice. He was scared so many times that night. The little boy repeated, "He didn't really mean it." But Alex could still see the pain which flashed across Ardeth's face when Dads slammed him into the pedestal.  
  
Just as he could see the sadness and disbelief in Auntie Celia's eyes now. She said softly, "If he didn t really mean it, then why did he do it? Your father is supposed to be a grown man, not a little boy. Children do things they don't really mean, Alex. Like when you put the Bracelet of Anubis on your wrist. You did it because you were curious and didn't know what it would do, didn't know what the consequences would be. Sorry, kiddo, 'he didn't mean it' won't cut it with me. That's not an acceptable answer."  
  
Alex started to open his mouth, but Auntie Celia asked, "What if Anck told you that she didn t really mean to kill your mother at Ahm Shere? I know that it wasn't her, that it was Meela. But would it really make a difference to you, Alex?"  
  
The boy closed his mouth quickly as he thought about that. No. . .not really. Anck. . .or Meela. . .hurt his family entirely too much for him to trust her. Even if he didn't watch her kill his mother, he still wouldn't have trusted her. She took too much pleasure in hurting others. Auntie Celia added softly, "Mind you, she has done a lot in the last few weeks for both of our families. But you still wouldn't trust her."  
  
No. No, he wouldn't. He couldn't trust her. And, Alex was starting to understand, that was the core of Auntie Celia's troubled attitude toward his father. She didn't trust him. It's never easy for anyone to realize that their parent is far from perfect. It's hard enough for an adult, but for children, it's a hundred times harder. Especially for little Alex O'Connell, whose father braved both Imhotep and the Scorpion King to rescue Alex and avenge his mother.  
  
But Alex was also a child who could see through the eyes of another, and he was seeing why Celia Ferguson Bey didn't trust his father. She couldn't. Yes, he helped her to rescue her daughter, and he helped Ardeth to rescue Auntie Celia. But just as importantly, she didn't trust Alex's father to be there for Ardeth now, when he needed them all so badly. Ardeth was fighting for his very life, and no one in this house wanted to let him down.  
  
Auntie Celia said softly, "Your father is trying, Alex. I know that. I can see that, with my own eyes. I could see that when he came to the train station for us. But for once. . .just for once. . .I'd like him to think before he opens his mouth. Before he blames my husband because your mother once more awoke something which should have remained sleeping, or because something was disturbed which should have been left alone."  
  
Again, Alex opened his mouth to protest, but Auntie Celia wasn't finished. She gazed at him steadily and said, "I love your mother very much, Alex, like the sister I never had. But it's true. When she took the Necklace of Isis from the Temple, she awoke the Guardians. Not my husband, not any of his people. Those Guardians went after her. . .and my husband risked his life to save her. Only to have your father. . ." Her voice was shaking suddenly, her face tightening with rage.  
  
Alex lowered his eyes. He wanted to be angry with his aunt, for saying all these things. But behind *her* anger, was fear. Auntie Celia was afraid for Ardeth, she was afraid that she would lose him. And that was when the final piece of the puzzle fell into place for Alexander O'Connell. Auntie Celia was behaving exactly as Dads did after Mum was killed at Ahm Shere. She was angry and scared, and too many other things for Alex to fully understand.  
  
But shortly before they returned to England, Anck told Auntie Celia that there were many reasons why Imhotep hated Dads. Because he stood in Imhotep's way, because he had what Imhotep wanted. . .and because in some ways, they were two of a kind. When Alex asked Mum to explain, she said that sometimes, when two people were alike, they didn't get along at all.  
  
That was what he was seeing with Dads and Auntie Celia! They didn t get along, because in some ways, they were too much alike! Auntie Celia was trying to protect her husband, she was trying to protect Ardeth. . .just as Dads tried to protect Mum and Alex and the baby! Alex was so intent on sorting out that puzzle, he almost missed the odd change in the atmosphere of the house.  
  
Almost. Because Auntie Celia whispered, "Alex, do you feel that? It's almost. . ." And then there was nothing more, for both Dads and Mum cried out in alarm. Auntie Celia scrambled to her feet, even before a gold light exploded from Ardeth's room. She cried out in alarm and grabbed Alex's hand. Together, they raced down the hall. Auntie Celia threw open the door with her free hand. . .and they both stared in awe at the sight before them.  
  
"This can't be good!" Auntie Celia muttered under her breath. Alex released her hand long enough to wrap both his arms around her waist. He felt her arm go around his shoulders protectively, and Alex buried his face against her hip. There was a man in Ardeth's room, a man who didn't belong there. He stood tall and proud, a man's body. . .with the head of a falcon. Horus. Horus was in Ardeth's room.  
  
"Stay behind me, Alex," Auntie Celia breathed, her eyes focused solely on the two deities in the room. Two? Yes. . .there were two. Horus and. . .Alex peeked around his aunt at the second figure, feeling his heart jump into his throat. Isis. She was in Ardeth's room, too. Auntie Celia repeated, "Stay behind me. . .I don't know what's going on, but your mother would kill me if anything happened to you."  
  
That was not a problem. The nine year old's customary bravado faded in the face of the two *very* angry gods. And they *were* angry. He could see that. But were they angry with Ardeth for some reason, maybe because Mum got the Necklace of Isis, or were they angry with his father, the way almost everyone seemed to be?  
  
. . .  
  
Ohhh, this just kept getting better and better! When Rick heard his wife call out, he had a feeling things were about to take another bad turn. He didn't think that was possible, not with everything Ardeth went through in the last few days. That was his first mistake. While he was outside, sorting things out with Celia, Ardeth's fever began to rise once more.  
  
Evy needed help. She was scared, and that wasn't good for her, it wasn't good for the baby. When Rick arrived in the room, Ardeth was moaning and thrashing about on the bed. Where he found the reserves of strength, Rick didn't know. But he did know Ardeth couldn't take much more of this. As he did before, the American sat down on the bed beside his friend, trying to soothe him.  
  
What followed was ten of the worst minutes of Rick's life. Instead of soothing him, Rick s touch seemed to enrage the Med-jai, and the moans turned to something far more menacing. Ardeth actively fought him, making animal noises which turned Rick's blood to ice. The American had no idea where Ardeth was now. . .he traveled through his brother's death, his violation at the hands of Lock-nah and his men, through the horrors of Hamunaptra.  
  
What else was there? Rick wondered, as he desperately tried to calm his friend. The delirious Med-jai was making his own life an open book to the American. Rick was discovering things about his friend, but he had a feeling Ardeth didn't want him to know about any of this. Hell, *he* didn't want to know about most of this stuff! Rick repeated to himself that he and the Med-jai chieftain would have a very, very, very long talk when it was over.  
  
It wasn't about the holding things back. Rick could understand that. Sharing things like that, that wasn't either of their styles. Rick also had a feeling that Ardeth would kill him if he ever told Celia about what Lock-nah and his men did to him, over and above the flogging which almost killed the adolescent chieftain. Ardeth decked him for telling Celia that he was a virgin. Rick didn't want to know what he would do to him for letting loose this particular secret.  
  
No, when Ardeth finally came out of this, he and Rick would have a long talk about sharing burdens. Over the last few days, Ardeth told Rick a great deal about the burdens he carried. There were some he had to carry alone, as the chieftain of his people. Some he could share with Celia. And still others, he needed help, but it wouldn't be Celia who could share those burdens. She was a brave, loyal woman, but she wasn't a warrior. Rick and Ardeth were.  
  
Now, Rick O'Connell knew in his heart that he could not afford to ignore what his instincts and his heart told him. He had a chance to do a lot of thinking over the last several days, and he could no longer hide. All hiding places were taken away from him, all excuses. As Ardeth finally started quieting once more, Rick whispered, "You've gotta come back to us, little brother. We can't do this alone, we need you too much."  
  
He wasn't Andreas Bey. But he knew himself to be very much like the late chieftain. They were both bullheaded and willing to move heaven, hell, and earth for their families. They both had vengeful natures and neither really knew how to forgive. While Rick never forgave Beni for leaving him to die at Hamunaptra, he also couldn't leave the little weasel to die. That, he clung to. But several things became clear to him, during this whole ordeal.  
  
His family needed Ardeth Bey, and Ardeth needed them. But Rick couldn't allow things to be so one-sided any more. That wasn't the way family worked, and he now accepted what his wife and brother-in-law knew as truth. Everyone but him. Ardeth was a member of their family, just as his wife was. He realized something else. Rick had it within him, to become a man truly worthy of his wife, of his brother. He had it in him, but he wasn't there yet.  
  
If he didn't stop fighting what he knew to be the truth, he would lose the best friend he ever had. He lost Evy, and got her back. He didn't think he would be lucky enough to get Ardeth back. Rick knew it wouldn't be easy. His instincts were still leading him to lash out, and that had to stop. But it would take time, and meanwhile, the first thing he had to do was win back Ardeth's trust. That, in and of itself, would be hard.  
  
As Ardeth quieted down, Rick patted his shoulder, taking deep breaths. *I dunno how much more of this he can take,* Rick thought, *or any of the rest of us.* He bowed his head, resting his hand on Ardeth's shoulder once more. These bouts with delirium took a lot out of him, and Rick whispered, "I don't know who up there is listening, but he can t do this for much longer. Help him. . .tell me what I m supposed to do to help him."  
  
The folks upstairs chose an interesting way to answer. As the words were spoken, the room lit up in gold. Rick was torn between throwing himself protectively over Ardeth and pulling a gun. His wife already did one. . .throwing herself protectively over Ardeth. . .so Rick did both. He drew his gun, even as he shielded Evy and their brother from the golden light now bathing the room. He didn't realize he cried out until he heard the sound.  
  
The light burned his eyes and Rick looked away, burying his face in Evy's hair. He fumbled, trying to put his gun away, and Rick silently prayed that he didn't shoot himself in the foot. . .literally. As the light died, the American blinked several times to clear his vision. He heard Evy breathe, "Oh. . .my. . .God." Rick tensed, wondering what disaster was upon them now. His wife answered that question a moment later when she added, "Horus. . .Isis?"  
  
Rick blinked again, then finally focused on the two forms in front of him. The features were. . .he couldn't make them out. Evy continued, her voice filled with a mixture of fear, defiance, and awe, "You'll not take him from us. . .I'll fight you for him, if need be!" Rick blinked at his wife again. She was nine months pregnant, due any day, and she was challenging a goddess and a god???  
  
A male voice answered, "There will be no need for you to fight us, Evelyn O'Connell. We do not seek to take Ardeth Bey's life from him. Rather, we have come to return it to him. However. There is a price to be paid. What would you give, Evelyn O'Connell, to ensure that no further harm comes to our child? Ardeth has sacrificed much for you and yours. What sort of sacrifice are you willing to make for him?"  
  
"Whoa. Wait a minute. Now, I appreciate that the two of you are gods, and that the Med-jai belong to you. But there ain't no way my wife is sacrificing anything! She's nine months pregnant. I lost her once. It won't happen again. . .least of all before I get some answers. What do the two of you have to do with what's happening to Ardeth, and what do you want from us to do it?" Rick retorted.  
  
Evy looked at him wildly, and Rick realized with a sinking feeling that he just mouthed off to a pair of deities who could have him, his wife, his unborn child, and his best friend for lunch, if they were so inclined. However, before he could say anything. . .whether to apologize or stick his foot any further into his mouth. . .the female said, "You wish for answers, do you, Rick O'Connell? Very well. But know this. Every moment that we delay, means another moment taken away from Ardeth Bey s life."  
  
Whoa. That did not sound good. The male, Horus, added, "And we care far more for the Med-jai than you, so we will make this, as you say, snappy." Okay, there was something you didn t hear every day. An Egyptian god, using American slang. Worse yet, Rick had a sneaking suspicion that the surprises weren't yet over for him or his family. Any of his family, come to think of it. He was proved correct only a moment later.  
  
Horus continued, gesturing to Evy as she hovered over Ardeth, "The dreams you both had, two nights ago, were no accident. They were arranged by Lady Ardath and Prince Rameses, and aided by Princess Anck-su-namun. We allowed it to go forward, because it coincided with our own plans to get your attention."  
  
Huh? Isis took the narrative, explaining, "You see, all of this happened for a reason. Four months ago, we became aware of Evelyn's dreams. We knew those dreams would lead her to my temple and the necklace. What her dreams did not tell her, for Nefertiri never knew, was that the necklace was protected by my priests and priestesses. Among those priestesses was Nefertiri's mother. Should anyone else touch the necklace, the Guardians would awaken."  
  
"The Guardians?" Evy whispered, "Those men who attacked. . .they called themselves the Guardians." Isis inclined her head, and Evy continued, her voice raw with pain, "Then you took the bodies of those men, after Ardeth and Celia killed them. All but the leader." The leader? That must have been the guy Rick found dead on the floor when he. . . Rick turned his memory away from that. Evy added, "And what happened to his body?"  
  
That's right! Rick was so shaken by the knowledge that he pushed Ardeth too far, he never noticed it until now. The body was gone! Horus replied, "We took his body, Evelyn, while you saw to Ardeth. One of my mother's most faithful Guardians grazed Ardeth's palm with his dagger." Now everything clicked into place. Horus gave a snort of laughter and said, "Now you understand. The tip of the dagger was laced with poison not of this world."  
  
"But why! Ardeth did nothing wrong! He was trying to protect me! And now he's dying?" Evy cried out. Rick was feeling the world shake under his feet. There was something in the back of his mind, something dying to get out. Something which was very important. Evy shook her head, whispering, "Why are you punishing him for simply fulfilling his task, for being whom and what he is?"  
  
"That is true. You brought this upon him, Evelyn O'Connell, with your heedless curiosity. He is unconscious, and suffering. But the true punishment is yours. He suffers for your curiosity, and your husband s selfishness. I ask you now. . .if the price of your curiosity is the agony suffered by your brother, is it worth it?" Horus asked. Rick understood. He knew why all of this took place, and rage bubbled up inside of him.  
  
In a voice trembling with that rage, Rick spat out, "So let me get this straight. . .you had one of your own fall ill, just to teach us a lesson? Ardeth is sick. . .dying. . .because you wanted us to see the consequences of our actions? You set this whole thing up? You did this to him? What kinds of gods are you? You claim to love him and care for him, but you. . .you used him! You made an example of him, for something he didn t even do!"  
  
Isis looked at him steadily, replying, "The O'Connell double standard is at work once more. You may risk the life of Ardeth Bey, but none others are allowed that right?" Rick swallowed hard. That was two. Not good, Ricky-boy. Not good at all. Before he could say anything, Isis looked away and said gently, "Sleep, child. This will not be on your head." Rick turned toward the door. . .the open door. . .just in time to see Celia crumple slowly to the ground.  
  
She took Alex with her, Alex, who was locked in her arms. Alex, who remained awake, even as he struggled to free himself. Isis continued, "And you may remain awake, little one. So you never forget the consequences of your parents' actions. Remember this, Alex O'Connell. Remember this, and know that each action you take, each tomb your parents desecrate, has a consequence. And that is why we are here, Rick O'Connell."  
  
"My mother speaks truly. We did not force you, either of you. You both chose to ignore the warnings issued by Ardeth Bey. You ignored the warnings of the temple. Just as you ignored the warnings at Hamunaptra, at Thebes, and countless other temples over the years. Did you truly believe there would be no consequences, once the line was crossed? The Guardians were fulfilling their task, to retrieve the Necklace of Isis," Horus added.  
  
There was something curiously familiar about his voice. Evy said desperately, "I'll give you the Necklace, it will only take me a moment to retrieve it! I promise I will never go near another tomb, if you ll just save Ardeth! Please. . .we love him so much. Our family wouldn t be complete without him, and his wife needs him." Now Rick was starting to see what was meant by the sacrifice. What was Evy willing to give up for Ardeth?  
  
Isis shook her head, saying softly, "You cannot keep that promise, Evelyn O'Connell. You know that, as do I. No, this is not what we will ask of you." She was right. Even if Rick's wife *could* keep that promise, there might come a day when she would resent Ardeth for it. Evy might not, but Rick might, and the deities obviously knew that. Which, in turn, begged yet another question. One of many.  
  
And Evy asked it, almost begging, "Then what would you have us do?" Rick would have chided his wife for dragging him into this, but a mocking voice rang in his head, 'we, what we?' He held his tongue, realizing they were walking along a very fine line here. If they screwed up even a little bit. . .the consequences would probably shatter Rick's family for good. No. He would keep his mouth shut.  
  
Isis replied, her voice almost gentle, "Think. Just think about the consequences your actions have on people other than yourself. Think about how much anguish it has caused Celia Bey to watch her husband in such pain. Think about the pain it has caused the Med-jai, to lose so many because of your arrogance." Evy lowered her eyes, as if ashamed by what the goddess said. She nodded in acknowledgment.  
  
However, Rick's pledge to keep his mouth shut went right out the window at that point. It was okay for him, and his little voice, to acknowledge that he was arrogant. It was something else entirely for someone else to say it. . .even if that someone *was* a goddess. And no one was allowed to talk that way to Evy, not even a goddess. He took one step forward, his mouth open to respond with some dumb remark about who Isis thought she was to talk that way to Evy.  
  
However, Horus had other ideas. He removed his falcon-head mask. . .it was a mask????? His face looked unnervingly familiar, but Rick had no time to think about that, because Horus lifted his hand, and the American went flying into the wall behind him.  
  
The young god hissed, "You arrogant ass! You arrogant, self-centered ass! Be grateful that my mother and I treat you with more respect than the respect you give to others! There is a reason Ardeth Bey called me his best and most clever friend, Rick O'Connell." Rick stared up at the enraged god. Best and most clever friend? The god continued, his face twisting with a bitter, ironic smile, "Yes, O'Connell. I am Horus, and it was I who watched over Ardeth Bey during the journey to Ahm Shere. I heard every word you said to my Chosen, to my child!"  
  
Oh. . .my. . .gawd. A thousand and one questions ran through Rick s mind. Why didn t Horus allow his body to live, after he was shot out of the sky? Why was Horus even in bird form, and why was he a servant to a Med-jai chieftain? He had the opportunity to ask none of those questions, for Horus continued, his black eyes flashing with a long-suppressed fury, "You have been warned, and warned, and warned, Rick O'Connell. And still you refuse to understand. I will make you understand."  
  
Now *that* did not sound promising. Rick backpedaled. . .or tried to. It wasn t easy, considering he was already against the wall. From the corner of his eye, he saw Celia sitting up in the protective circle of Alex's arms. The other American gave Rick's son a gentle push toward Ardeth's bed, and the little boy scampered up beside the Med-jai. Celia got to her knees and grabbed Evy's wrist, pulling her toward the American woman.  
  
Then Rick's entire attention was on Horus. The god had him by the throat, bringing back memories of having the life choked out of him by Imhotep inside Hamunaptra. That was only the tip of the ice berg, though, for images exploded through his mind. Images, and pain, like he never experienced before. He felt a blast, tossing him to one side, and the smell of rotting mummies burying him.  
  
Ardeth. He was seeing things through Ardeth's eyes. That was the first thing that occurred to him. The second was, how on earth did his friend survive such pain? A very good question, as the agony threatened to explode his chest. He couldn't breathe. Not because of the hand at his throat, but because it felt like an elephant sat on his chest. That pain was replaced with the sensation of knives tearing his flesh, and he prepared to die.  
  
Rick shivered and burned, his chest and shoulders throbbing in time with the beat of his heart. Dimly, he recognized that Horus was forcing him to experience things through Ardeth's eyes. The first and second risings of Imhotep, the injuries he suffered first in Hamunaptra, then in London. Jonathan and his damn double decker bus. How did Ardeth tolerate the agony, during the week-long journey to rescue Alex? How could one person bear such pain?  
  
And yet, Ardeth pretended to be fine. He wasn't fine, he couldn't be. The physical pain was bad enough. Horus was also forcing him to feel Ardeth's anxiety, his frustration, the barely-held back anger with Rick, every time the American dismissed Ardeth's attempts to explain the markings. //You never listen. . .why do you never listen?// Rick didn t know how to listen. . .not to Ardeth at least, but he knew how often Ardeth was wrong. Not often at all.  
  
And yet, Ardeth maintained his patience, perhaps understanding that Rick would accept in his own time. That wasn t the end. The report of the rifle as Horus was blown from the sky. My best and most clever friend. The one being who asked so little from Ardeth. Only what the chieftain could give him. The one being who was allowed to see all sides of Rick's friend, not just what Ardeth wanted his people, his family, to see.  
  
And a grief which turned Rick's blood to ice. Horus, who was the final gift from Andreas Bey to his treasured little brother. Rick saw what might have been, and knew how much Ardeth meant to his older brother. Horus wasn't finished with him, for a crushing sense of guilt swamped over Rick, to accompany the grief. Not his guilt, but Ardeth's. . .Ardeth felt that he failed his brother twice over. Rick closed his eyes, trying to fight back the images.  
  
It did no good. He heard Horus in his mind, growling, *If this is what it takes, then so be it. You will see things through his eyes, Rick O'Connell, and know the pain which you and yours have caused. You will learn of the consequences, if I must kill you and bring you back to life to do it.* More images then. . .the arguments with the Elders, the roadblocks Ardeth found in his path as he tried to prevent Imhotep from rising the first time.  
  
Horus changed tactics, then. No longer satisfied with forcing Rick to experience the agony experienced by his friend through the years. Now he was seeing through Ardeth's eyes in an entirely different way. This was pain of a new kind. A man struggling to keep his family, his people, his world from a curse which backfired. A man who raged against his ancestors, the stupidity, the short-sightedness, the arrogance which led to this.  
  
And again, the only thing Rick could find in his own experience was his utter helplessness when Evy died. That was the best he could do, for he never experienced such frustration. Two kinds of duty threatened to tear Ardeth apart. He was a warrior, not a diplomat, and he was so very young. Twenty-six wasn't young for a warrior, but to the elders, he was hardly more than a child. He warned the elders that the retrieval on the boat wouldn't work.  
  
They didn't listen, and Med-jai blood was spilled. The key remained out of their grasp, and Imhotep awoke. How did they expect him to keep the Creature in his grave if they kept tying his hands? Ardeth lost that battle, but he won a second battle on that topic, when he told them all that the rescue of Celia, who ultimately became his wife, would take place in the open desert, instead of on the barge carrying them away from Cairo.  
  
Frustration. Why were these Westerners so intent on staying? Was the gold really worth that much, was it worth their lives and the lives of all people? What did Ardeth have to do to make them leave? Should he have killed the tall Westerner, three years ago? No. . .no, the other set of Americans would have still come. How much more blood would be spilled, to keep Hamunaptra hidden, and the Creature in his grave?  
  
Success. Finally, the Creature was returned to his grave, and all were safe. The loss of life was not what it could have been. But still, Ardeth's heart hurt. His uncle sacrificed his own life to save Ardeth. Rick shuddered as he saw Ardeth's nightmares in the days and weeks which followed the reburial of Hamunaptra. His father, his brother, his uncle, all died to prevent the Creature from rising. . .and Ardeth failed them. So he believed.  
  
Encounters with the O'Connells, burning pain in his shoulder. *Oh Allah, why can these fools never leave well enough alone? Why are you angry with me, O'Connell, when your wife awakened this evil?* More fevered dreams. A small, gentle hand on his face. *Mother, is that you? Mother, forgive me for not being the son you wanted. Forgive me for leaving the burden to Anatol. I was trying to protect him, truly I was!*  
  
The events leading up to Ardeth leaving the camp near Hamunaptra, to sort out a problem among the tribes. His sense that something was terribly, terribly wrong. Rick wondered briefly to himself if the conflict was simply a way to lure Ardeth away from Hamunaptra, and allow Imhotep's followers to bribe the official into allowing them to dig at the accursed city?  
  
There was no way to be sure, beyond any reasonable doubt. Ardeth himself was very suspicious of the conflict. He knew both parties, and it was entirely unlike them to behave in such a manner. At least Rick and Ardeth were thinking in the same patterns. And like Rick, Ardeth had no idea how Imhotep or any of his followers could have influenced the two parties so powerfully, from such a great distance away.  
  
Ardeth's memories jumped to his return home, only to find that a dig at Hamunaptra was underway, and he could look forward to things starting all over again. The death, the destruction. . .and probably reuniting with the O'Connells. Ardeth sensed there was more going on than he guessed. Surprise, surprise, surprise. . .he was right. Again. And there was the beginning of that frustration and resignation, regarding the O'Connells.  
  
Rick tried to ignore that. He would deal with that later. Instead, he focused his attention on other memories which were flying through Ardeth's brain. He saw his friend learning about the death of the official responsible. His suspicion that some of the other Commanders were responsible for the death, his decision to find out for certain after it was all over. His weeks undercover at the dig, finding the Creature encased in that amber, resin-like material. The flight to London, literally under the noses of Imhotep's disciples.  
  
The rest, Rick recognized. London, the kidnappings of Evy and Alex, the rescue of Evy, and the bus ride from hell. And for the first time, Rick learned that Ardeth was sick while the American chased after the bastards who took his son. He felt Ardeth shudder as spasms tore through his aching body. And still, the Med-jai staggered to his feet and out of the bus to reassure Evy and Rick that for the short term, at least, Alex would be safe.  
  
"Enough!" Rick rasped out around the blockage in his throat, "enough, I get it!" He was released, and slid down the wall. Rick massaged his throat, but while he was free, the images were still there. The images, and the frustration and the grief. Rick said hoarsely, "I get it. Now let me start making things right. . .let me put the balance back. I can't do that if either of us are dead. You've punished me. . .now save Ardeth."  
  
That sounded awfully familiar, and it took Rick only a moment to figure out why. It reminded him of what Ardeth said, just before he went off to fight the mummies alone during Imhotep's first rising. 'Save the girl, kill the Creature.' He could tell, from the way Horus was looking at him, that this particular coincidence didn't escape him, either.  
  
"I shall save our child," Horus replied, "but know this, Rick O'Connell, bearer of the Med-jai named 'Terumun.' We will be watching you. And should you ever forget the lessons learned here today, there will be a second, and far deadlier reckoning. We can, and will, save Ardeth. But even after he recovers, we can still punish you. Never forget that." Rick nodded, still looking at Horus, and the young god moved toward the Med-jai.  
  
. . .  
  
Rick was really in no position to make demands, but time was running out. He knew it. Evy knew it. It was just a question of how much time before they lost Ardeth for good, and if the gods would be willing to accept that Rick understood. They did. Horus replied, glowering at Evy's husband, "I shall save our child, but know this, Rick O'Connell, bearer of the Med-jai named 'Terumun.' We will be watching you. And should you ever forget the lessons learned here today, there will be a second, and far deadlier reckoning. We can, and will, save Ardeth. But even after he recovers, we can still punish you. Never forget that."  
  
Evy knelt on the floor beside Celia, the two women locked in each other s arms. There was a part of Evy which wanted to look away as Horus throttled her husband, but she could not. Nor could she lose the feeling that she had done this to them all. Celia's arms tightened around her protectively, and Evy felt her son's hand on her shoulder. Evy barely managed a smile, knowing that Alex took refuge at Ardeth's side. . .quite possibly the safest place in the area.  
  
She wondered if she was the only one who realized the striking resemblance between Horus unmasked and Rameses. Perhaps that was his choice, to so closely resemble Nefertiri's brother. After all, he was a god, and he could take whatever form he wished. . .as they learned with the revelation that he was with them, all through the journey to Ahm Shere. With that knowledge, Evy began to wonder if Horus actually saved them.  
  
There were many things which she didn't notice at the time, but now realized were odd. They walked away from the dirigible crash with bumps and scrapes and bruises, but no broken bones. Was that his protective hand shielding them? So many possibilities opened up to her, so many potential scenarios that distracted her from having to see Rick's body tremble. Then her husband demanded that the deities save Ardeth. Horus made his answer, but the final words of the mother and son deities was not yet given. Isis had something to say as well, and all who heard her would be wise to heed those words.  
  
"Only time will tell, Rick O'Connell, if you do indeed 'get it,' but your words are heeded," Isis said, moving gracefully to the bed. Celia helped Evy to her feet, her arms wrapped supportively around her. Isis smiled gently at Alex, who put himself protectively in front of Ardeth. Evy couldn't see her son's face, but she could just imagine her son's expression. His small face would be set, his chin jutting out as he dared the goddess to harm Ardeth further.  
  
The goddess said softly, "Fear me not, Alexander O'Connell. I seek to heal my Med-jai child, and return him to those who love him most." Alex looked over his shoulder at Evy and Celia almost worriedly, asking without words if he should, indeed, move. Evy nodded once, unable to shake the feeling that time was running out, even faster than she realized. Alex hesitated, then scampered down from the bed, running to his father.  
  
Horus just gave Rick a contemptuous look and joined his mother at Ardeth's side. The mother and son deities took each other's hands, then placed their joined hands on Ardeth's chest. In unison, they chanted in a language long-forgotten, a language known only to the gods themselves. Evy stared in wonder as something dark and. . .cloudy. . .was drawn from her brother's body. At the same time, he was surrounded with the same golden light which announced the arrival of the deities. Ardeth groaned, but it sounded more like relief than pain.  
  
Isis leaned forward, gently kissing his forehead, and whispered in ancient Egyptian, "Awake, my sweet child. Your beloved ones await your return. They need you, sweet boy. Your wife most of all. Awaken, Ardeth Bey." Ardeth groaned again, and now Evy saw some color return to his face. Yes. His breathing also seemed much, much easier. She almost held her breath, but the tight grip Celia had on her prevented *that* from taking place.  
  
And slowly. . .so slowly. . .his dark lashes moved. He was trying to wake up. Celia breathed, "Ardeth? Sweetheart? Wake up, please wake up." Ardeth's head turned toward her, as if he was trying to find her and Isis looked at Evy. The Englishwoman didn't want to release her friend. Not because she feared for Celia, but because she feared losing her balance. But she had no choice. She released Celia, who made her way to Ardeth's side on unsteady legs.  
  
Evy looked back at the goddess, asking softly, "The poison has been withdrawn from his body. . .will he suffer any aftereffects from that poison?" General translation, what sorts of side effects would Ardeth find it necessary to deal with, over the next few days. Isis looked at her quickly, sharply. Celia was paying no attention to either of them, as her focus was entirely on her husband. Of course.  
  
"There will be side effects, Evelyn. He will be violently ill the next time he awakens, as his body's immune system begins to work once more. Possibly a few times after that. Be ready for it, and you will minimize the amount of suffering he must deal with," Isis replied. Evy made a face. Which meant she could also look forward to sympathetic nausea.  
  
"C'mon, Ardeth, wake up," Celia whispered, and Evy looked back at her friend. The American Med-jai queen was sitting beside her husband on the bed. Celia ran a trembling hand over his black hair, leaning forward to kiss his forehead, his closed eyes, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, his lips. Rick was standing on shaky legs, but Alex was keeping him upright, leading him back to Evy. The Englishwoman felt her husband's arms go around her protectively, both seeking and giving support.  
  
Celia bowed her head, her forehead resting against Ardeth's. She whispered something which Evy couldn't hear, and probably didn't want to hear. A shimmering alerted her to Anck's return to the room. There was nothing she could do. Evy knew that. But she was there, nonetheless, and a quick glance told her that Anck-su-namun looked frightened. She didn't know how this would end. . .and Evy kept forgetting that Anck loved Ardeth as well.  
  
There was a soft moan, then Ardeth rasped out, "Celia?" Evy buried her face in Rick's shirt, weeping in relief. He was awake, and his voice was the most beautiful sound Evy ever heard. Ardeth continued, his voice still rough, "I had such strange dreams, Celia. I dreamed of your grandparents. They love you so much. . . they're so proud of you."  
  
There was a soft gasp from Celia, and Ardeth whispered, "Don't cry, Celia! I am so sorry, my wife, please forgive me." Evy had no idea why Ardeth was apologizing, but it didn't really matter, not right now. Not when Ardeth was awake. But why did he not see Horus and Isis? The answer came a moment later. . .because they didn't want him to see them. Isis merely kissed Celia's hair, took her son's hand once more. . .and then they vanished.  
  
Evy blinked back tears, then returned her attention to Ardeth and Celia. Her friend and sister was saying in a voice made hoarse from crying, "Don't you dare apologize to me, you idiot! I love you so much, Ardeth. . .so much, and I'm so proud to be your wife." Through the tears now rolling down her cheeks, Evy saw that Ardeth drew Celia down to the bed beside him, so that she was lying in his arms.  
  
"And I love you, my Celia. Shhh, don't cry," Ardeth answered, his voice thick with exhaustion. He gave a soft sigh, his cheek resting against Celia's hair, then the only sound was Celia's soft sobbing. Evy moved cautiously from her husband's arms, half-afraid of what she would find. Did the gods come too late? Was Ardeth gone from them for good? She wanted to talk to her brother, wanted to tell him how much she loved him, how important he was.  
  
But now was not the time for that. As she reached Ardeth, she realized that he was asleep. . .asleep, not unconscious. And his wife lay in his arms, quietly crying from relief. There were so many things to be said, so many wrongs to be made right. But as she told Rick several nights earlier, after the dreams. . .that could wait. Isis told her to think, instead of simply act on impulse, as she so often did.  
  
That started now. Isis was right. She could make no promises about other tombs, about her digs. Evy's promise would have been made in desperation, and she could have never kept that promise when her curiosity once more was piqued. And breaking her promise might have led to the forfeit of Ardeth's life. Evy gently tugged on Rick's arm, saying softly, "He needs to sleep right now, Rick. Let him."  
  
Rick didn't want to. She could see that in his eyes. He wanted to shake Ardeth awake, and beg his forgiveness for a thousand little things done and said over the last eight years. Without saying a word, Evy begged him to put Ardeth's welfare first, instead of his own need for forgiveness. He fought it. She could see him fighting it. But something changed in his blue eyes, and Rick bowed his head. A soft sigh was released from him and he nodded.  
  
"Let's go get some rest. . .all of us," Rick replied. Evy looked around, and for the first time, she saw her brother in the doorway behind her. Tears were running down his face as he stared at Ardeth and Celia sleeping in each other's arms. She looked back at Rick, feeling close to tears herself, and her husband added, "They'll be just fine, Evy. They'll be just fine."  
  
Yes, they would. Anck was weeping as well, her brown eyes shining with relief and gratitude. Evy whispered, "Take care of them," and the ghost nodded. Then Evy leaned against her husband as they left Ardeth's room. It wasn't over, she knew that. But it was a beginning. Ardeth awakened, and he would begin to recover. Perhaps it would take him some time, but he and Celia weren't scheduled to be in Scotland until the following week. And it would give Rick and Evy the time they needed to make things right.  
  
No, this wasn't over, not yet. . .but they were getting there. And for the first time in days, Evy O'Connell saw the light at the end of the tunnel. She just hoped that it was daylight, and not an oncoming train. 


	10. Moment of Truth

So sorry about the delay in this latest chapter. . .family was in from out of town (their first visit up here since we moved to North Carolina three months ago), and I had very little time for writing between their visit and my three day assignment. However, we are heading into the home stretch. Just one more chapter after this one, then I'm taking a short break to catch my breath. Shouldn't be too long before one of two new stories comes out. . .the fourth in this series, 'Priorities,' or an untitled one that won't leave me alone. Now, onto the reviewers!  
  
Terreis: (blushing) Thank you! I've never had someone dedicate a chapter to me, so I was very honored. And I loved the chapter of that story! Way to go! And please be careful, don't go blinding yourself!  
  
Sailor Elf: Yes, dear heart, he's awake! I'm glad it made you happy.  
  
Cindy: Thank you so much. Your consistent reviews have been a big help to me, over the last few months, and I greatly appreciate it.  
  
Deana: Sorry it took so long, but I promise, it was well worth the wait. Buckle down, my ladies, the long awaited Talk between Rick and Ardeth is at hand.  
  
Part Nine  
  
Ardeth knew that with the fever in his physical body rising, there was a better than even chance that delirium would set in. What he didn't know. . .and probably should have. . .was that memories long forgotten and best left in the past would rise to the surface. All the barriers were gone, and his greatest shame was there, for anyone who could understand Arabic. At least his wife was spared that horror. He knew there was a reason he had not yet taught her Arabic.  
  
Still, there were too many people who did now know about that violation, about that shame. Ardeth was almost physically ill as he listened to himself telling Rick O'Connell the rest of the story. He couldn't even think about the. . .what Lock-nah and his men did. Aside from torturing him. Or maybe it was a torture in and of itself. Being that helpless. If he closed his eyes, and he allowed himself to remember, he could almost. . .NO!  
  
He forced it out of his mind for sixteen years, never allowing himself to think about any of it. After all, he was the Med-jai chieftain, though only seventeen years old at the time, and such things did not happen to a self-respecting warrior. At that time, he was too young and proud to understand that there were some things you simply could not control. When your body was pushed to its pain threshold, and you had no energy with which to fight back. . .  
  
But of course, that young boy didn't see it that way. That violation was his failure, his failure as a man, as a warrior, as a chieftain. And now, O'Connell knew about it. Oh, Ardeth heard the American's reaction, but that wasn't the point. O'Connell *knew* about that. He knew about that, and now things truly would be changed between them. Though he was still angry with the American, and though he would give O'Connell a second chance. . .he was not certain he could look the other warrior in the eye. He did not know if he could stand to see the pity in the other man's eyes.  
  
*Now you're being silly, young man!* Annabelle said with some asperity. Ardeth looked at the woman, who continued, *For the love of God, you were seventeen years old! One boy, against all those men. . .and I use the term loosely! What did you expect that child to do? Take out all of those cowards alone? Don't be so foolish! Rick O'Connell has his share of faults, but he knows a seventeen year old boy is not to blame for that evil deed.*  
  
Privately, Ardeth wasn't so sure about that, and Annabelle continued, her tone gentling, *Trust me, son. He's angry, yes. But not with that seventeen year old boy. He's angry with the beasts who hurt that child. He knows about the shame and the pride of a child that age. In some ways, Rick O'Connell is still a seventeen year old boy. He would never judge you. . .nor would my granddaughter. Although, she might kill any of the men from that day who still live.*  
  
Ardeth allowed himself a tiny smile at that, acknowledging the truth in her words. He was about to say something about Celia's fierce protectiveness of him. But then, Horus and Isis appeared and Ardeth felt terribly strange. In a way, he felt violated that O'Connell was feeling what he felt through the various crises, was hearing what he thought. Ardeth's thoughts were his own, O'Connell didn't need to know any of that.  
  
And then came the shocker. . .Horus. His bird. . .his falcon. . .his best and most clever friend. Was the god himself? Ardeth actually felt dizzy at that revelation. It seemed that just when he was recovering from one shock, another came along to knock him off-balance. This was the case when Horus and Isis began their chant to remove the poison from his body. Now everything made sense, everything. . .what was happening to him?  
  
Annabelle, as usual, had an answer for him. (Did she have an answer to everything?) She told him, *It's time for you to return to my granddaughter, dear child. Yes, I know the god and goddess said that it would be tomorrow morning, but your poor body could not take the poison for that much longer. They underestimated the trauma your body has undergone, these last few months. It's time for you to go back. You will remember these conversations as dreams. And remember. . .you must not kill Galen!*  
  
Ardeth was on the point of answering, when a terrible pain exploded in his body. He gasped and found himself falling once more. A golden light burned his eyes, and Ardeth tried to look away. The falling sensation ended, and with it, the terrible pain which took his breath away only moments earlier. He groaned softly in relief. Gentle lips pressed against his forehead, and a female voice whispered in ancient Egyptian, "Awake, my sweet child. Your beloved ones await your return. They need you, sweet boy. Your wife most of all. Awaken, Ardeth Bey."  
  
Ardeth groaned again, trying to follow the instructions of the goddess. He was so tired, but he wanted to see his wife. Wanted to. . .what was that? Ardeth froze, listening intently to what was going on around him. There it was again! He heard Celia saying in a voice only a little louder than a breath, "Ardeth? Sweetheart? Wake up, please wake up." Celia? Where was she? He tried to locate the direction of her voice, shivering as cool breezes swept over his body. *Celia, where are you? I heard your voice, my wife, where are you?* Footsteps. . .or rather, floorboards creaking under a person. A relatively small person. Ardeth focused on that.  
  
He vaguely heard Evelyn's voice, but was more intent on his wife's location than whatever Evelyn was asking about. Then the bed creaked and Ardeth could smell his wife's perfume. She whispered, "C'mon, Ardeth, wake up." He wanted to open his eyes, but it would take a little more work before he could do that. However, he received an incentive when he felt a small, trembling hair caress his hair, then gentle kisses covered his face.  
  
*Open your eyes, open your eyes, open your eyes!* Celia's forehead touched his own, as she whispered in a voice only he could hear, "Please. . .you have to come back, Ardeth. There's too much left for us to do. We just now found each other." *I'm coming, sweet Celia.* A figure appeared in his mind, the image of a young woman. At first, he thought it was Annabelle, but after only a moment, realized it was Anck-su-namun. She was holding out her hand. She would take him to Celia. Ardeth took her hand, and new waves of pain washed over him. But this time, he wasn't afraid.  
  
The pain drew a moan from him, but it also unfroze his vocal cords. He managed to force out, "Celia?" Weeping. He heard weeping. Who was weeping? His eyes wouldn't open yet, but that wasn't important. Celia was with him, and there was so much he needed to tell her. Ardeth shivered, but told his wife, "I had such strange dreams, Celia. I dreamed of your grandparents. They love you so much. . .they're so proud of you."  
  
He felt something drop on his face. Something wet, and he knew who was crying. It was his wife. Somehow, he made her cry. Was it because she was worried for him, or because he told her about seeing her grandparents, whom she loved so much? It didn't matter. It didn't matter, because either way, he would make this right for her. Ardeth breathed, "Don't cry, Celia! I am so sorry, my wife, please forgive me."  
  
Celia actually laughed, a joyful sound, and replied hoarsely, "Don't you dare apologize to me, you idiot! I love you so much, Ardeth. . .so much, and I'm so proud to be your wife." *And I am proud to be your husband, my beloved.* Ardeth reached up, drawing his wife down to the bed beside him, until he could feel her against his body. Until she was lying in his arms, her head resting against his chest, and her body warmed his. Why was he so cold?  
  
"And I love you, my Celia. Shhh, don't cry," Ardeth told her. Or, at least, he thought he said that. He was so tired. So very tired. He rested his cheek against Celia's hair, content just to hold her, to feel her hair against his skin. She was still crying, but as Celia warned him when he first asked her to marry him, she was stubborn. She would cry herself out, and then she would fall asleep. With his wife securely in his arms, Ardeth drifted off into a dreamless sleep. He needed no dreams. Only his Celia.  
  
When next he woke, Celia was gone, and Ardeth was cold once more. He still couldn't figure out why he was cold, and before he could make any progress on that, nausea swamped over him. Without thinking twice, he stumbled from the bed, aiming to reach the bathroom before he was sick. He wasn't sure when the last time he ate, but something was coming up and Ardeth wanted to reach the toilet before he messed up the O'Connell guestroom. Evelyn was still pregnant after all, and he didn't want to leave that mess for her.  
  
He barely managed to open the toilet seat and duck his head before the first spasm wracked his body. He was still in terrible pain. His muscles ached, he felt like he was beaten almost to death, and he was sick. A familiar, male voice called his name, then he wasn't alone in the bathroom any more. By this time, Ardeth was sure he was dying. He had to be dying, if he felt this bad. He really wished he could have died in peace, rather than in this indignity.  
  
"Easy, buddy," a gentle voice said. A strong arm encircled his waist, while the other arm wrapped around his shoulders. The spasm ended and Ardeth leaned against the strength offered, not really caring who provided it. The voice repeated, "Easy, I've got you. Jonathan! Jonathan, get your butt in here, Ardeth's sick!" The chieftain flinched, as the shout sent fresh waves of pain pounding through his head.  
  
Pounding feet, and Jonathan was gasping, "He's awake again? Oh, thank God, but I think Celia might kill us. She's still eating breakfast. What do you need me to do, Rick?" Rick? It was O'Connell? A fresh spasm knocked all thoughts out of his head, and when he slumped back against O'Connell again, he didn't have the strength to pull away. Jonathan was mumbling something Ardeth couldn't quite make out.  
  
"Then flush the damn toilet! And when you're finished with that, get me a washrag for his face. Easy. . .let us do all the work," O'Connell said, his voice gentling. Ardeth would have laughed, if he had the energy. Did O'Connell propose that he take Ardeth's place in front of the commode? That was an entirely too tempting offer. Pity he couldn't take the American up on it. Something cool and wet dragged across his face, and Ardeth almost groaned at the relief it provided. O'Connell added, "Next time he has to. . .you know. . .hold his hair back."  
  
"Got it. Do you want me to let Celia know that he's awake. . .I mean, have Alex tell her? He wants to help somehow," Jonathan replied. O'Connell seemed on the point of answering, but Ardeth lurched forward, knowing he was about to go through the whole thing again. Jonathan yelped and Ardeth felt the Englishman yank his hair back. That made Ardeth's head hurt even worse, but it was better than the alternative. Jonathan whispered, "Why is this happening to him, hasn't he been through enough?"  
  
"Celia's theory is that this. . .well, you know. . .him being so sick. . .is the aftereffects of the poison in his body. Don't ask me to explain it, but it makes about as much sense as anything else we've heard so far," O'Connell replied. Ardeth collapsed back against him once more, gasping for breath. He closed his eyes, and heard the toilet flushing. O'Connell added, "At least the fever is gone. . .he's shivering."  
  
"Of course he is, he's half-naked!" came the quick retort from Jonathan. Half naked? Well, that explained much! Something cold brushed against his face again, and Ardeth opened his eyes. Jonathan smiled at him, asking softly, "How do you feel, old boy? So sorry, stupid question." Ardeth gave him a half smile, and Jonathan asked, "Just about finished, are you?"  
  
"I. . .believe. . .so. O'Connell, why. . .?" Ardeth asked. There was a puzzled silence from the American and Ardeth asked, "Why am I wearing so few clothes?"  
  
He heard the laughter rumble in the other man's chest, then O'Connell replied, "We were sponging you down, to bring down your fever." Oh. Now Ardeth remembered, watching it from outside his body while he was with Annabelle and Thomas. Assuming, of course, that wasn't a dream. It didn't feel like a dream, though. It felt entirely too real. O'Connell added, his tone tinged with humor, "I didn't have any designs on your virtue, buddy, if that's what worries you."  
  
"As my wife would say," Ardeth said wearily, "do not flatter yourself." O'Connell laughed outright and Ardeth cringed at the pounding in his head. He closed his eyes tightly. When he opened them, Jonathan was looking at him anxiously, and Ardeth said softly, "You asked me a question. I am finished. I would like to go back to bed now. But first, I would like some water." Jonathan handed him a cup of water, which Ardeth used to rinse out his mouth.  
  
"Then up we go. Jonathan, take his other side. Hang on, buddy, we'll get you back to bed, then somebody will get your wife. Ready? On three. . .one, two, three!" O'Connell said. On 'three,' they lifted Ardeth upright and half-dragged, half-carried him back into his own room. There were so many questions whirling through Ardeth's mind, but right now, he was exhausted. Too tired for the reckoning with O'Connell. As if sensing this, the American murmured, "We got a lot to talk about, Ardeth, but you should rest right now."  
  
"Aywa," Ardeth breathed as he was settled in the bed. Yes, there was much they needed to discuss. But for now, there was one thing he needed to know. Jonathan was heading out of the room, presumably to track down Celia. O'Connell started to follow, but Ardeth grasped his sleeve, stopping him before he could get too far. The American turned back to face him, a concerned and questioning look in his eyes, and Ardeth asked only, "Why?"  
  
O'Connell looked away, then back again. Ardeth thought about clarifying what he meant. Why did he come after them, why. . .just why? However, the other man replied quietly, "Because Celia left a note for Evy. She told her that you were sick, and that you might need our help. I figured, after all the times you've dragged our asses out of trouble, after all the times you've cleaned up our messes. . .I figured it was my turn to save you, instead of the other way around. But we can talk more later."  
  
That was good enough for Ardeth. The moment of truth had not yet come. . .but what O'Connell said gave Ardeth enough of a foundation to. . .to give O'Connell a real second chance. The chieftain wasn't entirely sure he even had that in him, but this was promising. O'Connell gave him a tired smile and said, "Rest now. Jonathan's gone to get Celia. We'll talk when you're stronger." Ardeth nodded and O'Connell touched his bare shoulder, his eyes straying to the bullet wound gained during their second meeting.  
  
The American said quietly, "It left a scar. Could have done a better job of taking care of it." His eyes met Ardeth's, and the Med-jai realized he wasn't talking just about the bullet wound. Ardeth dipped his head, then lay back on the pillows. He was tired. O'Connell quietly left the room, closing the door behind him. Despite his exhaustion, however, Ardeth didn't return to sleep immediately. His stomach muscles ached, his head was pounding, and there were other aches and pains. Worse yet, the aches were compounded by his inability to relax.  
  
A few moments after O'Connell departed, the door creaked open. Footfall, soft. The floorboards creaking only slightly under someone's weight. Ardeth opened his eyes and turned his head toward the door, to find his wife slowly closing the door behind her. Celia turned back around, the door safely shut, and froze. Her paralysis lasted only a moment, then a smile spread across her face. She whispered, moving across the floor to the bed, "Hello, love. Jon told me that you were awake."  
  
She touched his face, and Ardeth put his hand over hers, murmuring, "Lay with me, my wife." Celia nodded and crawled onto the bed beside him, wrapping her arms around his aching waist. Ardeth bit his lip, needing the contact more than he needed relief from the pain. And after a moment, the agony eased. Ardeth rested his cheek against Celia's hair, sighing in Arabic, "Returning to you makes it all worth while, my love."  
  
"Don't know what you just said," Celia answered softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his chest, "but it sure sounded pretty." Ardeth grinned at that, not having the energy to laugh, and Celia continued, "Nothing else matters right now. You're back, and I'm not ever letting you go again." Ardeth tightened his arms around his wife, knowing that she would be there when he awoke the next time, and every time after that.  
  
. . .  
  
It was almost over. There were only two more acts to be played. And as Annabelle watched, her grandson by marriage returned to sleep, his wife clutched in his arms. Celia, for her own part, was holding onto Ardeth for dear life. As if she would never let him go, in this lifetime or the next. Annabelle smiled in spite of herself. Those past lives. . .ahhh, yes. Thomas said quietly, *We did a much better job this time, my love.*  
  
*I can only thank the Creator that we were given a second chance with her, Thomas. We didn't do so well by her, that first time around. We should have been more supportive of her, in the previous time. It took Ardath so long to acknowledge how she truly felt about Rameses,* Annabelle replied. She looked up at her husband, adding, *And yet, we must not have failed too badly. She named her daughter after me, and would have named her son for you, if she would have been more time on earth.*  
  
*I know. But Miriam and Jacob did the best they could, with the time they were given. As we did. And, you did not seem to be terribly surprised when we learned of our previous ties to Celia. . .or should I say, to young Ardath,* Thomas pointed out. Annabelle smiled, her eyes never leaving her granddaughter. Her granddaughter, her foster daughter. Always, in all of their previous lifetimes together, she raised that young woman.  
  
And she did a damn fine job of it. It was difficult for her, this last time. Annabelle gained the memories of her previous life with the birth of her own daughter, Madeleine. Although, Annabelle suspected the barriers to the memories of those previous lives were removed while she lived with the People. They probably guessed the truth, and made it easier for her to remember the truth, when she was ready.  
  
That was why she could never tell her granddaughter the whole truth. That Annabelle knew her, and loved her, and raised her through the ages. That the same would be true for all eternity. Nor could she tell her about the amazing young man for whom she was meant. Not just because of the rules governing her contact with those in the living world, but also because Annabelle wasn't certain if this was the lifetime when they would finally be reunited.  
  
And, Celia simply wasn't ready for that truth. So, Annabelle prepared her, as best she could, by sharing as many stories of the People she could remember. Thank the Creator, Celia was an inquisitive child. She always was. And since her own parents shut her out, the young girl was twice as likely to listen to Annabelle, than if her parents were attentive to her. Something occurred to Annabelle, which took her breath away.  
  
What if that was the whole point of Galen's kidnapping? To force Bruce and Maddy to withdraw from their two younger children, and in turn, push Celia toward her grandmother? Annabelle didn't want to consider that possibility, but she knew better than to ignore that chance. There were times when she felt as though she and her family were pawns of destiny, like pieces of a chess board. . .move and countermove.  
  
Thomas said softly, *In the end, love, it really doesn't matter, the why of it. Rick O'Connell had the right of it, when he said that 'what might have been' wasn't nearly as important as the reality. Things could have been much worse for that family, for our granddaughter and her new husband. In the worst case scenario, the one where Ardeth died at Hamunaptra back in 1926, Celia would have never married, and would have instead, devoted her entire life to rebuilding what Imhotep destroyed.*  
  
Annabelle knew this to be true. She saw the rest of the scenarios displayed for the O'Connells and Jonathan Carnahan. They both did. They saw all the possibilities, all the scenarios, and all the consequences of the choices made. They saw Ardeth and Anck becoming lovers for a brief time, after her rescue of him at Ahm Shere. They saw her eventually traveling to America to find Lady Ardath's reincarnation, and effecting a reunion.  
  
So strange. Until this past crisis, it never occurred to Annabelle, the possibility of Ardeth and Anck as lovers. They were so different, so very different from each other, but she supposed there was some truth to the saying, 'opposites attract.' But in the end, in both that alternate reality, and the one which had Imhotep rising in 1913, Anck realized that Ardeth did not belong with her.  
  
And yet, Anck loved him. In one reality, she sacrificed her place in this world, so she could bring his Celia to him. And in the other, she sacrificed her life for another.  
  
Senephra Bey. The child who would have been born of the trysts between the bored, neglected young queen Anck-su-namun and the young Med- jai slave boy, Ardeth Bey. The child born of Anck-su-namun's body, and who called Celia, 'mother.' The only mother she knew, until the end at Ahm Shere, when Anck sacrificed her own life, to save the life of her twelve year old daughter. A sacrifice willingly made.  
  
If she closed her eyes, Annabelle could see it play out. Hafez ordering the capture of the little girl from Med-jai lands, while her parents tried to bring an end to the entire mess. Anck's fury when she saw her daughter's terrified face. And she knew Senephra immediately. How could she not? The little girl was a combination of her birth mother, and her father. Such a beautiful little girl. The child whom Anck never stopped loving.  
  
She screamed in denial, at the same time her best friend screamed. They saw their daughter in harm's way, and both reacted accordingly. Anck moved to rescue her daughter, while Celia drew a weapon to take out the man threatening her child. One mother died. . .the other survived to comfort Senephra. Yes, Annabelle saw it all, and she saw the same potential which Ma'at, and so many others, saw.  
  
What might have beens, what could still be. Much as she hated to admit it, O'Connell was right about it. In the end, what might have beens didn't matter as much as what could still be. And that was what held Annabelle's attention now. In time, Anck would be reincarnated. It seemed likely that she would be reincarnated at the same time as Annabelle's granddaughter and her husband. After three thousand years, the balance was finally being restored.  
  
First, with Anck's rediscovery of those whom she loved. Not just Imhotep, but her forever friend, Rameses, and the child created together. There was more work for Anck to do, before she was ready to be reborn, but Annabelle had faith. The girl *would* make it. And now, after three thousand years, balance was finally being restored to the friendship between Terumun and Rameses.  
  
If not now, then soon. Annabelle smiled, sighing happily. She loved them both so much. Her treasured granddaughter, her beloved child in all lifetimes. Her husband, forever her love. The trials were not over for them yet, of course. There was still much that had to be done. Many frightening tribulations, which would try the very souls of her beloved children. She could see some of them.  
  
But she also knew that her granddaughter and grandson by marriage had the strength they would need, in order to win. Thomas said softly, *That is right, my love. They have enough strength, between the two of them, to stand fast through the darkness of the night. They have enough strength, enough joy, enough love, enough laughter. Just as we did. For they are finally together. You know this.*  
  
She did. And as both Bruce and Madeleine joined them, Annabelle cast one last look at the sleeping children below her. Sooner or later, Ardeth would get cold and hungry, and it was then that their final great trial would begin.  
  
*I have never forgiven myself for being such a terrible mother,* Maddy said softly, *but now, I think it was necessary. My arrogance and selfishness allowed my daughter to hone her strength. She would not be the Celia whom Ardeth loves so much, if things did not happen as they did.* She paused, cocked her head to one side in a way Annabelle hadn't seen since her daughter was a girl, and added, *Perhaps someone should tell her that.*  
  
*Yes, it may help her when she's trying to keep her patience with O'Connell,* Thomas agreed. Annabelle kept silent. She smiled, however, knowing that the reckoning was coming. Very soon, the two men would finally have their moment of truth. And when that happened, her granddaughter could not be in the room. This final reckoning was between O'Connell and Ardeth. No one else.  
  
. . .  
  
Ardeth wasn't the only one who needed to rest. The last eighteen hours, since Ardeth awoke the first time, were traumatic for everyone in the family. With Ardeth safe and sound, the poison removed from his body, the O'Connell family was allowed to fall apart. Rick and Evy went to their room, falling asleep in each other's arms, while Jonathan and Alex went to their respective rooms.  
  
Rick didn't rest long. He was too keyed up, still running on adrenaline. After only three hours of sleep, he awoke with a start. The last time he awoke that abruptly. . . the dreams. The dreams about those other realities. There were no such dreams this time. Rick wondered about Lady Ardath. Did she realize that she was just a pawn for the gods? Based on what he heard earlier, Lady Ardath was permitted to show them the other realities, as a way to soften Rick up. He grunted. Well, it accomplished what it set out to do.  
  
Even with Ardeth's eyes open, it didn't change things. Every time Rick looked at his friend now, he saw the haunting image of Ardeth dying in his brother's. . .or Evy's. . . arms. Would he have really allowed Ardeth to die in the Golden Pyramid? He didn't want to think so, but Rick was plagued by self-doubts. He didn't know what was more rattling. . .the idea of leaving Ardeth to die, or Anck's change of heart and helping the Med-jai to safety.  
  
With an effort, he redirected his attention. And there were a lot of things he had to think about. However, it wasn't necessary for him to even sit up. Rick sank back against his pillows, sighing deeply. He couldn't sleep any more, but he also wasn't ready to get up. Sleep. Rick almost snorted, then remembered that Evy was still asleep. He didn't know if he would ever catch up on his sleep. He did manage to sleep a little during the eighteen hours after Ardeth's first awakening. But not enough. Not nearly enough.  
  
He had a decision to make. . .or rather, several. The time of reckoning was ahead, and Rick had no idea how he would handle it. He didn't know what Ardeth would say, or what would happen. However, the fact that Ardeth even had to ask why Rick came for him wasn't promising. It meant that Ardeth no longer trusted him. . .and that, alone, meant that Rick faced an uphill battle in regaining his friend's trust.  
  
Which brought him. . .oh, to hell with this! His frustration with himself and the situation caused a surge of adrenaline and energy. Suddenly restless and unable to lay still any more, Rick bounced up from the bed, checking over his shoulder to make sure he didn't wake Evy. She slept peacefully, a small smile on her face. At least one of them could do that. The American now realized that it was his unease about the conversation with Ardeth that made him so restless. He wanted it over with. He wanted it resolved.  
  
Of course Evy wasn't concerned about it, not concerned enough to stay awake. This sort of thing was easy for her. All she had to do was give Ardeth a hug, tell him again how much she loved him and how sorry she was, and that was it. There were no such options available to Rick. And he was no good at talking. . .he communicated by using his gun or his fist. But this time, he had to talk. He told Celia that he would do this on his terms, but the longer he thought about it, the more crazy he made himself. It was time to stop thinking and time to start doing.  
  
Rick moved purposefully out of his and Evy's room, stealing down the hall to the guest bedroom. A quick peek inside told him that Ardeth was wide awake and asking his wife for some food. Well. . .he hadn't eaten in a few days, it wasn't a huge surprise that he was hungry. What was a surprise, however, was the fact that Ardeth was trying to talk his wife into doing something which would be very, very bad. Namely, get a lot of food for him.  
  
Rick choked back a grin. Ordinarily, his money would be on Ardeth, but his friend was recovering from a devastating illness, and he wasn't at his best. Besides, he was arguing with his equally stubborn wife, who was also a mother, and knew that eating a lot after being so sick would only make him more sick. Further, Ardeth's tenacious wife probably felt guilty, though Rick wasn't sure why she would feel that way.  
  
Still, even taking her guilt into account, and everything else which happened over the last few days, Celia was not being unreasonable. Overprotective of her husband, of course. . .she outright admitted that she was very protective of Ardeth. Still, Rick could hardly blame her for her caution, any more than he could blame Ardeth for wanting to eat anything he could get his hands on. Not surprisingly, it was an argument that Celia won. Rick could have told his friend that his wife would win that argument. . .but he thought it was something Ardeth should learn.  
  
The win put her in such a good mood, she flounced past him with a saucy smirk. Didn't even say a word, which surprised Rick. She just arched a brow. Looked like she would at least trust him to carry out his word to her, that he would put things to right, on his terms. He nodded at her, then quietly rapped on the door. Ardeth looked up, still grinning. Okay. He was grinning after losing a verbal battle with his wife, which begged the question. . .why *was* he grinning? More to the point, did Rick *want* to know the answer to that question?  
  
Some of the light died from Ardeth's eyes and he nodded to Rick, saying in a familiar tone, "O'Connell." The Med-jai was eyeing him warily. Oh yeah. Definitely had some massive bridge-building to do. Ardeth added, nodding in the direction of his departing wife, "I woke Celia, and asked her to get me some food. I could not convince her to prepare a large breakfast for me. She was quite insistent about a light breakfast. She fears I will become sick again."  
  
"Well," Rick said reasonably, "I can see her point of view. And I don't imagine you want to go through that again." Ardeth shook his head, grimacing as he obviously remembered just how awful it was. Rick quietly closed the door behind him, adding, "She didn't just leave because you needed food. Celia and I had a little talk while you were. . .unconscious." He didn't know how else to put it, especially since he was afraid at the time that Ardeth wouldn't make it.  
  
"Indeed?" was all Ardeth would say. Rick grimaced. Oh yeah. Ardeth definitely would not make this easy on him. However, Rick stopped and thought about it. Did he really want it to be easy? Did he want Ardeth to let him off the hook, and tell him that everything was all right? No. No, he didn't. That wasn't Rick's style, and it certainly wasn't Ardeth's, either. In the back of his mind, he heard someone whisper, 'nothing worthwhile has ever been easy. . .much less friendship and trust.'  
  
Rick had no idea who owned that pesky voice, though he was afraid it was Terumun. His previous incarnation probably had the capacity to be just as insistent as Nefertiri or Lady Ardath. That Lady's descendent said quietly, "My wife is a very strong-willed woman, O'Connell. It has been necessary for her, to survive. This, I learned from her grandparents. In some ways, O'Connell, I knew my Celia not at all. Can you imagine what it was like, gaining that knowledge about someone whom I love more than life itself?"  
  
That gave Rick the opening he needed, the opening he was searching for. The American responded, "Actually, yes, I can imagine that. Better than you think. I did a lot of mulling while you were. . .unconscious. And I came to a disconcerting realization. I don't really know you at all, do I." It was a statement of fact, not a question, and Rick didn't wait for an answer. He didn't need one. Instead, he continued, "I realized that, while you were unconscious. Hell, even before you got so sick. I was coming to the train station to apologize, Ardeth."  
  
"Why?" Ardeth asked quietly. That wasn't something Rick was expecting, especially since they talked about this a little earlier. He *told* the Med-jai why. At least, the 'why' of the train station. But Ardeth wasn't finished. He asked, "Why come to the train station, why come to apologize? Why are you saying now that you do not really know me, when I have been more honest with you and Evelyn than anyone aside from my family and wife?"  
  
Rick took a deep breath, then realized he didn't know what to say. After a moment, he decided to answer the questions in the order they were asked. There was a hint of anger in him, that Ardeth wouldn't just accept his apology and let this go, but Ardeth allowed only so much attitude, and Rick crossed the line. He swallowed his anger, answering, "I told you. I went to the train station, because I knew you were sick, and it was time I started saving your ass, instead of the other way around. I just didn't realize how sick you were."  
  
He looked at his friend. Funny. Ardeth was still very pale and he was still very weak. He was half-naked, and could barely sit upright in bed. But his presence was no less commanding than all the previous times Rick saw the other man in battle. There was so much he didn't know about Ardeth Bey. If he played this right, he would have the chance to learn even more. Everything depended on what happened in the next few minutes.  
  
He had to keep that in mind. At all times. Rick maintained eye contact with Ardeth and went on, "Why did I go to the train station to apologize? I actually meant to apologize the night before, more than once, but both Jonathan and Evy headed me off at the pass. They were afraid I was apologizing to make myself feel better, instead of a genuine apology, and they wouldn't allow me to disturb your rest for my selfishness."  
  
*You didn't answer his question.* The words didn't come from Ardeth, or Celia, or anyone else. But they were there. Probably Terumun again. Damn him. Rick dipped his head, and sighed, trying to find the words he needed. After a moment, he looked up at his friend and said softly, "I wanted to apologize because I crossed the line. I didn't just cross the line, I obliterated it. I should have never blamed you for the attack against Evy and the baby. Because it was just the last straw. . .the straw that broke the camel's back. I wanted to apologize because I was wrong, and. . .goddammit, are you gonna make me say it?"  
  
"Why did you. . .if you. . ." Ardeth began. For the first time, the stoic mask dropped and Rick saw the anger. The quiet, potent rage which Rick first saw at Hamunaptra so many years earlier. But then the mask went back up. The shoulders went back, and Ardeth continued, "Yes, O'Connell. I wish to hear." Again, rage flowed briefly over Rick, but he didn't allow himself to lash out. That was how he got into this situation in the first place. Besides, despite the mask currently in place, Ardeth was still sick. Rick wouldn't kick a man when he was down.  
  
The American took yet another deep breath, then answered, "The night before you got so sick, I had a series of dreams. About what might have been, about what could have happened, if any number of decisions were made differently. And it forced me to realize. . .just how you've helped us. Every time we've needed you, you've been there. Hauling our asses out of trouble, fighting by our side. You've never let us down, buddy. Not once."  
  
Ardeth still hadn't spoken, and Rick exhaled before continuing, "I. . .I should have never blamed you for the attack. And I didn't. That was the whole thing, even as the words were coming out of my mouth, I *knew* you weren't to blame. I knew that you probably saved my wife and my daughter. I knew all of that, and I just couldn't stop the words in time. They were just there. There was no thought to it at all."  
  
"Then why did you say it? Why say something you know to be untrue, unless you truly believe it? Do you believe that, O'Connell? Do you truly believe that I would purposefully bring harm to my little sister? To her unborn child? And have you forgotten that it was not I who raised Imhotep and the Scorpion King?" Ardeth asked, the stoic mask dropping yet again with the bitterness in his voice. And there *was* bitterness in his voice. Bitterness Rick never heard before, and didn't think possible from Ardeth Bey.  
  
Rick started to speak, but Ardeth wasn't finished. He was glowering at Rick, his eyes burning with a long-suppressed frustration finally given voice. He continued, "Do you think it is easy for me, to ask for help? To come to someone of a culture who looks down on mine?" Rick looked away. He never thought of that. Of either of those points. And then the full significance of the second sentence penetrated his brain. Rick's head snapped up as he stared at Ardeth in shock.  
  
"NO! Christ, I don't look down on you! I. . ." Rick began. He looked away, away from Ardeth's disbelieving look. His own words repeated in his head, his dismissal of Ardeth's certainty that he was a Med-jai. Rick rubbed his face over his hand and said, "I don't look down on you, I don't. . .it sounds like I'm dismissing what you're saying, 'cause it scares the shit out of me. Because if you're right. . ."  
  
"You think I do not know that of which I speak? That I. . .I merely speak to hear my own voice, O'Connell?" Ardeth demanded. Oooh. Bad sign. Rick came to realize, over the years, that Ardeth's English inevitably became more formal when he was either unwell or angry. Ardeth muttered something highly uncomplimentary about Rick's intelligence under his breath in Arabic. Rick glared at him, then backed off. He was gonna make things right if it killed him, and if that meant backing down and holding his tongue, so be it.  
  
Very quietly, Rick answered, "Denial is a powerful thing, Ardeth. If you pretend something isn't there, then it really isn't. I suppose I can't expect you to understand that, not when reality has stared you in the face your entire life. I've had the same thing, but the stakes were different for me. If I saw something I didn't like, I could look away. You didn't have that same freedom. You're used to that responsibility, Ardeth. I'm not."  
  
Ardeth said nothing, merely looked at Rick. The American was finding it hard to put things into words, and while Ardeth wasn't willing to go easy on him and just forget the whole thing, he wasn't making things difficult, either. In a strange sort of way, Ardeth was meeting him halfway. Rick understood that if he wanted to retain (or regain) this man's friendship, he had to play by Ardeth's rules this time. With that in mind, Rick added, "It's not that easy to. . . just expand my area of responsibility. Being a Med-jai means a lot of responsibility."  
  
"But it is a part of you, O'Connell. How can you turn away from that?" Ardeth asked. He looked genuinely puzzled, and Rick realized with a shock that he should have expected this. As a warrior, Ardeth learned to accept his weaknesses and either remove them, or turn them into strengths. It made him a better warrior, and it was also part of his leadership skills. He knew which men belonged in which role, and whom he could trust. He wondered what his life would have been like, being raised alongside this man.  
  
"Because I'm not like you, Ardeth. I don't doubt that I remind you of your brother. But there's a really big difference between me and Andreas Bey. . .I didn't grow up with a big, loving family. I didn't have two parents to show me how to accept things that frightened me or angered me. I had only myself. And I sure as hell didn't have a. . . a pain in the ass best friend who was always there when I needed him, whether I wanted him to be there or not!" Rick finally said. The last sentence was mumbled.  
  
And unheard by Ardeth. The Med-jai was still looking at Rick. His expression was stoic, but behind the mask, Rick saw confusion, hurt, and anger. The American said with a sigh, leaning forward, "Look. You. . .a few minutes ago, you asked me a question. Several questions, but there was one which was the most important. And here is the answer. No. . .I know you would never hurt Evy, or Alex, or the baby. Any of us. And no, I know it isn't easy for you, to ask for help. You're just as proud as I am, if not more so."  
  
Ardeth was on the point of asking, 'why.' Rick could see it in his eyes. He wasn't ready to answer that question, in part because he didn't have the answer. He was still thinking about Celia's question to him. . . about Beni, and whether or not he was making Ardeth pay for that little weasel's betrayal. Yeah, the little stinkweed protected Miranda, at Imhotep's command, until Celia and Anatol got there. But Beni still closed that damn door and left Rick to die.  
  
"And this whole situation. . .from start to finish. . .begs the question. I just. . . I don't get it, buddy. We put you through hell, I make it a habit of shoving you around, and wanting you to do things for me, and you just put up with it. With me. WHY?" Rick almost demanded. Ardeth closed his eyes, and for a moment, Rick was afraid that he really went too far. Then his friend opened his eyes once more, revealing a bone-deep weariness.  
  
"There are so many answers to that question, O'Connell, I scarcely know where to begin. I have said that you remind me a great deal of my older brother, Andreas. We have already discussed this. . .at least, you have. I wish there were words which would allow me to tell you about him. He was my hero. He was everything to me, especially after my father died," Ardeth finally replied. Rick swallowed hard. Ardeth was a great hero. . .for him to say that his brother was his hero, that told Rick a lot about Andreas.  
  
Rick licked his lips, then said softly, "You meant the world to him." Ardeth looked at him with a confused expression, and Rick continued, "I saw how he reacted, when he was faced with the possibility of losing you forever. It almost. . .no. It *did* destroy him, Ardeth. You might have worshipped him, but he drew his strength from you. You started that pretty young, didn't you? Giving your strength to others."  
  
Ardeth just shrugged, saying, "That is. . .I do what I must for my people, O'Connell. That is another reason why I. . .why things remained as they were for such a long time. You were protecting your family, and I happened to get in the way. I understood that." Rick didn't know what to say to that, and so he said nothing. It was easier, sometimes, to say nothing at all. Easier, and safer. After a moment, Ardeth continued, "Besides, that is just the way you are. I am not sure why I reacted so strongly this time."  
  
Rick did something unusual for him during these last few days. He listened to conversations around him. Really, there was nothing else for him to do, not if he wanted to keep his sanity. And drawing from that information, he said slowly, "I think I do. You don't like traveling, much less to England. That's one thing. For another, you asked me to keep Evy away from that temple, and we went there anyhow. Anck told me about the brothers she threw over the side, after they were so rude to you and Celia. That's three."  
  
He enumerated each point as he remembered them. Ardeth's mouth tightened when he mentioned the brothers who took an unexpected swim. Rick really wished he could have seen that! Maybe, after he was finished apologizing to Ardeth, he could convince Anck to tell him their names, if she knew that. Of course she had that information, Anck wouldn't leave something like that to chance! Kinda like him.  
  
Rick stopped before he could go much further. He didn't even want to think about the similarities between himself and Anck-su-namun. That was dangerous territory. Celia already told him, very bluntly, that she saw a lot of similarities between him and Imhotep. In her ever so humble opinion, they were the two sides to the same coin. That was bad enough. But similarities between him and Anck-su-namun? Uh. . . no. He didn't wanna think about *that.*  
  
Instead, the American forced himself to concentrate on the current conversation and continued, "You got to the house, had the fight with the Guardian bozos, were wounded yourself. That's four. . .no, five. . .no, six. Six, that's right. According to Evy, you gave the bozos a chance to surrender. Dumb move, if you ask me. . .not surrendering to a Med-jai when you had the chance. Didn't Isis teach any of her high priests or priestesses that fighting a Med-jai is a very *bad* thing to do?"  
  
That earned him a ghost of a smile, and Rick went on, "Your wife had to kill for the first time on her own, without any help from Lady Ardath. . . again, in defense of my wife. And then, King Bozo opened his big yap, blaming you for the attack on his wife and child. That's seven and eight. Now, given those circumstances. . .I think your reaction was actually pretty mild. Especially compared to mine!"  
  
"As my wife would say. . .I will say nothing to that," Ardeth said, still with that ghost of a smile. It was that comment, and that smile, which ultimately gave Rick hope that he could still salvage this. . .all of this. It wouldn't be easy, but he was seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Just as long as it didn't come from another double decker bus. He still had nightmares from that first one!  
  
"Yeah, that's what she would say, too," Rick observed with a rueful grin, "you married a regular little firebrand, you know that? And she was such a nice girl when we first met her! Hell, I can't figure out who has changed more in the last six months. . .you or her!" That earned him a somewhat broader grin from Ardeth. He probably thought the same thing, as Ardeth was more aware of everything.  
  
What was said, and unsaid. . .what was done, and undone. Rick said honestly, "I'm sorry, Ardeth. I'm sorry for all of it. And if you'll give me a chance. . ." He stopped, knowing that there was nothing he could promise that would mean anything to Ardeth. Empty promises were as bad, if not worse, than broken promises. And to say that he would never lash out at Ardeth again. . .well, Ardeth wouldn't believe him. He came to expect such behavior from Rick, it was part of whom Rick was. . .and Ardeth didn't expect people to change to suit him. There was a clue somewhere in there, a clue that would allow him to make things right, but damn if Rick could figure it out right now.  
  
Ardeth had something to say, however. He murmured, slumping back against his pillows, "While I was unconscious, I was in another place, O'Connell. I saw my own body, and those around it. I heard the conversations. I know you mean what you say." Ardeth. . .knew? He heard all of what was said to him, and around him? Then why were they going through this whole mess? Terumun said. . .and this time Rick could plainly hear his voice. . .*because it was necessary. Stop whining.*  
  
Rick glared at his alter ego from ancient Egypt, not that it did much good, of course. Not when Rick knew Terumun was right. And when Rick didn't interrupt him, Ardeth continued, "But the most important question was never answered, O'Connell. Two questions, actually. Firstly. . .what has caused you to distrust me so? And secondly, whether or not I should trust you. On that first night, as I bathed, a most disturbing thought occurred to me." Rick reflected that this would be good. Ardeth liked admitting that he was disturbed about as well as he liked admitting that he needed help.  
  
Rick was right about what was to come. Ardeth went on, somewhat reluctantly, "It occurred to me, O'Connell, that I trust Imhotep more than you trust me. And certainly, he trusts me. . .the living reminder of the great injustice done to him. . .more than you do." Rick's blood turned to ice. He really believed that. Looking into Ardeth's dark eyes, the American could see that his friend, his *best* friend, truly believed what he just said.  
  
*He thinks I don't trust him. Well, why should he think otherwise?* That last comment came not from Rick, but from Terumun, who was staring at him accusingly. Damn him. He wasn't behaving at all like the other previous incarnations. It was like he was right there in Rick's head, demanding his attention. And unfortunately, he had a captive audience. There was nowhere that Rick could run, that Terumun couldn't find him.  
  
In the days before Ardeth and Celia were married, Rick had a rare conversation with Jason Ferguson, in which the younger man told him about being possessed by Khaldun, and his confrontation with the jealous prince shortly before the arrival of the rescue party. There was nowhere that Khaldun could go, that Jason couldn't find him. It sounded too familiar. Rick said very softly, "And without trust, there is no friendship."  
  
"La," Ardeth said softly, simply. The two men sat in silence. A part of Rick wanted to walk away now. Just walk away, and forget the whole damn thing. But he was bound by the same tethers which kept Ardeth loyal to him for so long. History. Was his pride really worth that much to him, that he would walk away from this man for good? Simply give up, after everything they went through together?  
  
It was because of that question that he asked, "What do you want from me, Ardeth? What do I do? What *can* I do, to make this right?" 'What do I do?' Rick flinched, for the words reminded him once more of Ahm Shere. Why couldn't he get away from those memories? They were still so damn fresh for him. *What do I do, Evy? What do I do? Take care of Alex.* Rick blinked his eyes, trying desperately to shake the images, which now included Ardeth falling to Meela's blade.  
  
Ardeth was silent for a long time, and Rick had the sense that his friend didn't know how to answer him. That made the American very uncomfortable, so he said suddenly, "Celia feels guilty, you know. About you being so sick." Ardeth looked up, his eyes narrowing, and Rick explained, "She feels guilty, because she couldn't talk you out of going to the train station. There may be more to it than that. But I know about that, at least. It's not like your wife actually confides in me, or anything." Anything but that, actually.  
  
"Aywa. There is more, though that is a beginning. My wife and I. . .she is. . .she takes great enjoyment in making me. . ." Ardeth began. He stalled, trying to find the words, but Rick was pretty sure he could figure it out. However, Ardeth continued, "She enjoys raising my blood pressure. On that day, it was no different. My wife fears that she caused the poison to spread more quickly through my body, because of our. . . amorous activities."  
  
"And, of course, you set her straight?" Rick asked. Ardeth just sighed, and Rick guessed, "You tried, but you're not sure if it stuck. She's stubborn, like I said. She's still not at ease with what she had to do in our house, back in Cairo, when Khaldun took you over." Ardeth looked up at him, rubbing the back of his head without really thinking about it. Rick asked slowly, "What about you? Are you okay with what she had to do?"  
  
"Yes and no. She did what was necessary, to save me. I have never forgiven Khaldun for what he did, or myself for what I failed to do," Ardeth replied quietly. He paused, then added, "And yes, O'Connell, I did try to set her straight, as you put it, but I am not certain if she accepted what I told her. I did, however, succeed in reminding her that it would not have mattered how quickly the poison passed through my body, once it entered my bloodstream."  
  
Good point. Rick observed, "You would have collapsed eventually. Maybe Celia did you a favor with her. . .ah. . .well, with instigating your amorous activities." He used Ardeth's own words, feeling his face turn bright red. He really didn't want to be discussing this topic, and didn't really need the pictures it conjured up in his overactive imagination. Ardeth raised his eyebrows, and Rick explained, still blushing fiercely, "You would have left and gotten on the train. You would have collapsed on the train."  
  
Ardeth inclined his head, in acknowledgment of this fact, and Rick asked softly, needing to know the answer to one question, "Ardeth. . .really. Why did you leave? Especially the way you did?" It was something which he found hard to reconcile with the quiet courage and strength he knew Ardeth to possess. It was almost like running away, and while Ardeth once told him to live today and fight tomorrow, it wasn't the same.  
  
The Med-jai answered softly, "I was not thinking clearly, O'Connell. And I believed myself to be unwelcome here. I feared my presence would cause dissension between you and Evelyn, stress which she does not need, so close the hour of her delivery. So. . .the answer to your question is, partly from my own selfishness and partly out of fear for Evelyn." Rick blinked. He never expected Ardeth to be quite so blunt. However, after a moment, he shook his head at himself. He shouldn't have been so surprised. Ardeth could be very blunt when he chose. Obviously, he chose to be blunt now.  
  
Rick was silent for several moments, then asked once more, "You didn't answer the most important question of all. What can I do, Ardeth, to win back your trust? What can I do to make things right with you?" Those weren't his words, Rick realized immediately. He didn't talk like that. But Terumun did, and Rick realized that in his own way, his previous incarnation was trying to help him. Just as Nefertiri helped Evy, and Lady Ardath helped Celia.  
  
Terumun was trying to help, because Rick couldn't find the words to apologize properly. Ardeth looked at him, before closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the pillows. He looked exhausted, and Rick was on the point of suggesting they finish this later, when Ardeth replied, "There is no magic formula, no single act, O'Connell. I need time. You know, just as well as I do, that things can not return to the way they were. We can only move forward."  
  
Time. In a way, it was the hardest thing Ardeth could have asked of him. Time meant waiting, and waiting wasn't something Rick was good at. He wasn't patient, except where Evy and the children were concerned. *But, my brother, that is what he requires of you. Time to find a new balance, time to create a new peace between you. Will you truly let him down, after everything? You have both come so far. . .why would you stop now?*  
  
It was one last shot to blow it all. Rick's anger began to rise once more. It was how he always reacted when he was frightened or didn't know what else to do, what else to feel. Terumun's words only served to throw gasoline on the flame. *How dare Ardeth ask him to wait, when there might be a time that Rick's family needed him while he got his head straight? And how dare Terumun say what he said?*  
  
Ardeth's dark eyes hardened, and his chin lifted defiantly. Almost as if he heard what Rick was thinking, though that wasn't possible. Terumun's words angered Rick, but Ardeth's reaction to the unspoken harsh words were a cold slap of water in his face. While Ardeth fought for his life, Rick came to realize that his pride had no meaning alongside the life of his friend. How dare Ardeth? How dare *Rick* assume that Ardeth's only purpose in life was to save Rick's family, usually from a situation of their own making?  
  
He came to one other conclusion. He was wrong about something else. When he told Lady Ardath that reality was reality, and what might have been was irrelevant. No. No, the what might have beens were important, because there were many ways of losing someone. They could die, as Evy did at Ahm Shere, though she returned. . .or you could drive them away with your own stupidity and arrogance. He still couldn't forgive himself for failing to protect Evy at Ahm Shere. Would he ever forgive himself if he lost Ardeth not to death, but to his own pride? Looking back at those alternate realities, the answer was obvious.  
  
Rick exhaled softly, then replied, "Then time is what you'll get, Ardeth. As much as you need. It's a small thing to ask. And if there's anything else you need. . .just ask. I'll be there." Ardeth relaxed, the tension leaving his body with a quiet sigh as he slumped back against the pillows. He looked exhausted, and Rick felt guilty about asking his friend to do this while he was still recovering. Yes, time wasn't such an unreasonable request. And any time Rick forgot that, he knew his wife would be there to remind him.  
  
Both men were quiet for a long time, until Rick could endure the silence no longer. He needed. . .hope. He needed reassurance that Ardeth was willing to meet him halfway. But he was a man and he couldn't ask outright. Instead, he found the words he needed from Ardeth himself, spoken nearly a year earlier as they raced away from the British Museum after rescuing Evy. Rick said, drawing the word out, "So. . ." Ardeth opened his eyes to look at him inquisitively. Rick continued, smiling ruefully, "Glad to see me now?"  
  
Ardeth looked startled, then he smiled faintly. He recognized the words, and it took him a moment to come up with the proper response. But come up with it, he did, and he asked, his dark eyes twinkling with what looked like laughter, "Just like old times, yes?" Rick threw back his head and laughed, suddenly feeling like everything would be all right after all. He looked back at Ardeth, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder. Yes, everything would be just fine. 


	11. Filling in the Missing Pieces and Meetin...

Yea! All done! The next story in this series is called 'Priorities,' and Ardeth's not the one who gets hurt this time. Which doesn't mean I don't torture him so more. I do. He tortures so beautifully! However, the next story which I'll be posting is a little different. I took a new theme and gave it a little twist. You know those Mummy high school fics? I personally love Hamunaptra High, but rather than redoing another high school fic, I decided to revisit the years which were my own personal turning point. . .college! Imagine. . .Imhotep, the great gentleman jewel thief, has taken refuge at a small university as a professor of art history. Hot on his tracks are the step-brothers, Rick O'Connell and Ardeth Bey, searching for something Imhotep took from the Med-jai. All three men end up entangled with three sophomore roommates. . .Evy, the prim and proper English girl, studying in the States; Anck-su-namun Cortez, who was cursed with the name of King Tut's wife after her own mother read about the ancient queen; and Celia Ferguson, the shy American who finds herself acting as a bridge between Anck and Evy. And let's not forget Beni, the janitor in the girl's dorm (yes, Beni fans, he will be in this, and he'll help save the day); Lock-nah, Imhotep's brutal enforcer; and Meela, Anck's twin cousin who delights in causing trouble. It's untitled so far, but that will change, I'm sure.  
  
Onto the reviews:  
  
Sailor Elf: Yeah, they talked! I think this means that Rick won't be shooting his mouth off about Ardeth's personal business, but I wouldn't swear to it. You know Rick, after all. He's unpredictable at times.  
  
Cindy: (grins, pleased) I'm really glad to hear that. I love working with these two, as well. And I do have a lot of fun, having Rick and Celia square off.  
  
Deana: Yes, we do make Ardeth suffer, but in the end, it's all worth it. Hopefully.  
  
Terreis: Yes, I saw the Mummy/Xena fanfic was updated, and I reviewed the new chapter! Great job! And you put me in the same category as Ruse and Deana! I'm flattered. . .I think! Honestly, though, I do torment other characters, aside from Ardeth. Look at what I did to Rick in this story, after all.  
  
Part Ten/Epilogue  
  
*It is done.* Celia looked inquiringly from her task to the speaker. Anck was listening intently to something only she could hear. The ghost returned her attention to the American woman, adding, *The conversation between O'Connell and Ardeth. It is done. You will be very pleased with your husband, my sister. And now, O'Connell begins to understand why things were done in this manner, though Ardeth heard everything that was said while he was between.*  
  
"I wonder who explained it to him," Celia murmured, slicing up the last of the bananas, before placing them in the cereal. She inspected her fingers for any possible damage, then looked at Anck, adding, "It's really pathetic, you know that? I'm the wife of one of the finest swordsmen in the Med-jai nation, if not the finest, and I can't even slice bananas without making sure I didn't slice open any of my fingers."  
  
Anck merely smirked and replied, *But you did not slice your fingers open, therefore, there is no reason for shame. Now, tell me about this custom of putting fruit on that grain.* Celia looked at the ghost, who shrugged and added, *I have been told that this 'cereal' is a form of grain. You put it in milk and then eat it? When did this begin?* Celia eyed her friend, folding her arms over her chest.  
  
"You're changing the subject. Who explained to Rick the necessity of going through that whole thing?" she repeated. The subject of cereal, much less fruit on cereal, was irrelevant at the moment. She knew Rick O'Connell, and knew that he would have a hard time understanding, in the beginning, why it was necessary for him and Ardeth to talk, if Ardeth heard everything that was said while he was unconscious. And Celia knew about that. . .well, because of Anck-su-namun. How else?  
  
*Terumun explained it to him,* Anck replied, *using an example which Evelyn probably would have understood better.* Celia raised an eyebrow questioningly, and Anck explained, *the sword of Damocles. . .forever suspended over his head, hanging by a thread.* Celia blinked. Anck was right. That example probably would have been better for Evy. Anck continued, *However, Terumun made him see that if the conversation did not take place, this incident would have remained between them forever, separating them. . .a sword of Damocles, hanging over his head. O'Connell, I mean.*  
  
"Hmm. . .not bad. Not bad at all. Anck? Would you have told me about the what might have been scenarios, the ones which Rick, Evy, and Jonathan saw?" Celia asked. Anck looked away, then shook her head. That surprised the American. Anck kept few things from her. Celia asked next, her voice very gentle, "Why not? I'm not judging you, Anck, but I am curious. Why wouldn't you have told me?"  
  
*Because it is as O'Connell said. The what might have been is not as important as what is. He was shown what might have been, because the gods were trying to teach him a lesson. He could not understand that lesson, without the proper perspective,* Anck replied. Celia nodded, understanding this. But she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to her friend's retience than what she said so far. Anck lowered her eyes, adding in a low voice, *And because in two of those scenarios, I would have been Ardeth's lover until he found you.*  
  
Celia felt her jaw become unhinged as she stared at the ghost, then closed her mouth with a snap. She said, "Well, that makes sense. . .you were afraid I'd be jealous?" Anck gave her a sidelong glance, then nodded very slowly. Celia bit her lower lip, trying to decide if she was, indeed, jealous of those what might have beens. After a moment, however, she let it go. She didn't see those scenarios. . .and really, to her, they weren't real. She said, "I'm not. I didn't see those scenarios, or any other. . .it's not real to me."  
  
Anck sighed with relief, saying, *I am so glad. I can tell you now. Do you remember when I. . .reacted strangely to your mention of Senephra?* Celia nodded, remembering the incident in question rather easily. Anck continued, *There is a reason for that. In one of the scenarios, Senephra was my daughter. My daughter, and Ardeth's. She. . .there was an alternate reality, where Imhotep awoke in 1913. Senephra existed in that timeline.*  
  
Okay, now that was a shocker. Ardeth and Anck as lovers was one thing. . .them having a child together was something else entirely. Celia sat down hard as her friend continued, *He defeated the Med-jai, and resurrected me. You were there, too. . .brought from the United States as a child, to be a house servant. Except. . .I recognized you. You were only ten years old, and you looked just as Ardath did when I first met her.*  
  
Celia bobbed her head numbly. Anck knelt in front of her, whispering, *You told me, my sister, back when we had this conversation the first time, that you had faith in me. That you believed I would find a way to protect you, no matter what. You were right, Celia. And in that timeline, after Senephra was born. . .I gave birth to her, but you were her mother in every way that counted. And while Ardeth was my Med-jai, to do with as I saw fit. . .you held his heart.*  
  
Anck shook her head, sighing, *O'Connell was not the only one who needed to see what might have been. I did as well. It is a good thing, the way things worked out. I see you now, so happy. You were never as happy in any of the other scenarios, not even when you were raising Senephra, much as you loved her. Things turned out as they were meant to turn out. . .as they should have. I would change none of it.*  
  
Celia looked back at the ghost wonderingly. She could truly say that? With everything which happened to her over the last three thousand years? Anck nodded slowly, saying softly, *I would change none of it. I understand now. . .Imhotep and I did not belong together, at least not in that lifetime. And Imhotep's attempts to resurrect me. . .has only led to more misery for us both. Maybe some day that will change. But for you, my friend, the reincarnation of my best friend. . .for you, I gladly sacrifice those years I had Ardeth.*  
  
Celia looked at her friend straight on, coming to a breathtaking conclusion. She said softly, "You loved him, didn't you? In those scenarios. . .you weren't just lovers, but you genuinely loved him." Anck's lips parted, and Celia nodded, thinking it through, "Yes, you must have loved him. You never considered Seti to be your lover, only Imhotep. You were Seti's mistress, his concubine, his wife to be. But never his lover."  
  
*Tiyu. Imhotep. . .after he conquered the world, he became distant. You will be pleased to know, my sister, that your United States never bowed down to him. He was not particularly interested in the United States, however, for he did not consider that country to be important. He took what he wanted from your country. . .namely, you and your brother. . .and killed your parents,* Anck answered. She paused, then added, *Your mother died trying to protect you.*  
  
Another shock, one of many during the last few days. Anck went on, *At the same time, the surviving Med-jai were brought in. Mainly, women and children. Imhotep gave the order to kill the remaining warriors. . .along with their wives. The children were to be enslaved. The Med-jai chieftain. . .Suleiman Bey. . .offered his life in exchange for the freedom of his children. He was a father, as well as a chieftain, after all. He saw most of his warriors killed. He could not save his people, but he had a chance to save his children.*  
  
Anck sighed, remembering that other version of 1913, and said, *Imhotep knew he could not allow that. So long as any of the Med-jai remained free, they would be a source of hope for those who remained behind. So, instead, he killed Suleiman Bey, as well as his wife, but protected the five children in his own way. And on his own terms. He gave the second son, Ardeth, to me. As a gift, to do with as I saw fit. Imhotep knew I would never hurt a child, much less a boy of thirteen. His brother Andreas did not fare so well. When Ardeth was fifteen, Andreas led a revolt against Imhotep. . .and died.*  
  
"There's more to it than what you're telling me, isn't there?" Celia asked, having the uncomfortable sensation that Anck was holding out on her. Anck looked away from her, and Celia thought about what she was hearing. . .and what she wasn't hearing. She asked slowly, "You said that Andreas led the revolt against Imhotep, and died. Where was Ardeth during this revolt, and why didn't he die?"  
  
*Because, my forever friend, Ardeth was fighting for his very life. There was no way he could take part in the revolt. Imhotep rose because of Lock-nah and his men. They successfully raised him. When Imhotep took control, first of Egypt, then most of the world, Lock-nah was made into. . .I believe you call him an 'enforcer.' There was bad blood between Andreas and Lock-nah. From what I learned, Andreas picked a fight with Lock-nah, winning that fight.*  
  
Celia couldn't imagine Lock-nah took that very well. She was right. Anck continued, *Humiliated at his defeat, Lock-nah took it out on Ardeth. He and his men beat Ardeth almost to death. You found him, and brought him to me. Andreas reacted predictably, and died for it. But he was not the only one who paid for the revolt. Imhotep held Lock-nah accountable for what happened, since he attacked Andreas' younger brother. That solidified the bad blood between Ardeth and Lock-nah. Over the years, there were more skirmishes. I finally took Ardeth to my bed when he was seventeen, to protect him.*  
  
"Imhotep gave Ardeth to you, to do with as you saw fit. . .including taking him to your bed. But why would he do that? Ardeth was only thirteen when this happened, just a boy. Why would Imhotep do such a thing?" Celia asked. She frowned thoughtfully as she pushed herself to her feet once more. She still had work to do. Her husband was hungry, and she had to take care of him.  
  
*Celia, in some ways, you are such an innocent. Imhotep was trying to humiliate Ardeth, by giving him to me as a. . .as a toy, as a pet Med- jai. He could not bring himself to physically harm the boy, but there are more than one way of destroying an opponent. He never believed that I could come to love Ardeth. But how could I not? He was so innocent. . .and so very brave. Even at thirteen, he was a protector, and because of your kindness to him at your first meeting, Ardeth appointed himself as your protector,* Anck replied.  
  
Anck was right. That never even occurred to Celia. The ghost went on, *When Ardeth was seventeen, I took him to my bed. I made my mark on him, and let all the world know that anyone who harmed Ardeth would answer to me. By this time, Imhotep was lost in the nightmare that comes from ruling the world. . .or most of it. And I was lonely. Terribly lonely. Imhotep would be gone for several days or weeks, and you and Ardeth were my greatest source of comfort. When I took Ardeth to my bed, you were only fourteen years old.*  
  
Make my mark on him. Celia looked at her friend, asking softly, "Did you realize, when you took Ardeth to your bed, that you were repeating history?" Anck frowned at her, and Celia explained slowly, "Anck. . .you've forgotten the incident which led to Seti using the paint. To you, it was a symbol of your slavery. But in the beginning. . .in the beginning, it was Seti's attempt at protecting you from attacks."  
  
Celia gleaned that information from Lady Ardath's memories. She died before the attempted rape occurred, but it was still something she saw. Anck went very pale, and Celia continued slowly, "Seti was trying to protect you, originally, with the paint. One of Khaldun's disciples attacked you, tried to rape you, after he saw you and Imhotep together. Remember? If a man tried to hurt you again, Seti could find out who did it. He made his mark on you."  
  
Now, there was no color in Anck's face. She whispered, *I. . .never even thought about it. I was. . .almost half-sick after it happened. I wanted to forget about it. Wanted to forget about how helpless I felt, and. . .I wanted to forget how it felt when Seti held me, after the attack. I did not want to feel that way when he held me, so safe and secure, I only wanted to feel that way when Imhotep held me. Oh, Celia, what did I do?*  
  
Anck wiped away a tear with the back of her hand, repeating, *I never even thought about it like that, but you are right! I tried to protect Ardeth, just as Seti tried to protect me. And. . .just like Seti, I drove Ardeth away. Lock-nah's fury could only be diverted for so long. Over the next four years, things grew more and more tense. That night. . .the night which changed everything. . .he had an altercation with you. Rick O'Connell, who escaped slavery by becoming a thief, pushed Lock-nah away from you. Frustrated, Lock-nah decided to go after Ardeth. By this time, everyone but me knew how the two of you felt about each other.*  
  
By now, the tears were flowing freely. She whispered, *Lock-nah found Ardeth alone in the practice room. It. . .amused. . .Imhotep to teach Ardeth how to fight, or rather, finish his training. He was so sure Ardeth would never rise against him, for the fates of his sisters and brother hinged on Ardeth. He knew it. Imhotep knew it. Lock-nah found Ardeth in the practice room. . .then went to find three of his underlings.*  
  
Celia could guess what came next, but Anck rasped out around her tears, *He was almost dead when you found him. O'Connell was with you. . .actually, you were his hostage. O'Connell didn't want to save Ardeth, for he knew that he warmed my bed. And O'Connell was there to kill me. They sent a thief to do the work of an assassin. But seeing Ardeth. . .he couldn't refuse. You brought him to me, and I knew that Ardeth could no longer stay in the palace. I put him in your care, though it broke my heart to say good-bye to you. I loved you so much. I loved both of you so much.*  
  
"Did Imhotep know we were going?" Celia asked softly, and Anck nodded, wiping away her tears. That confused Celia. Why would Imhotep agree to it? Yes, Anck told her that Imhotep became very distant over the years. Simple math told her that by the time O'Connell came on the scene, nearly eight years passed since Imhotep's rising. Ardeth would have been twenty-one, and a genuine threat to Imhotep's power.  
  
*He believed Ardeth was dying. That was what I told him. Ardeth was dying, and I was taking him to his people for burial. Imhotep agreed. But as I planned the escape, I realized I was pregnant. . .and the odds were good the child was Ardeth's. So, I pretended to be a hostage in the hands of the Tuaregs for the next several months, as Ardeth regained his strength, and my pregnancy advanced. When Senephra was born, I rested for a few weeks, before I 'escaped' and returned to the palace,* Anck replied.  
  
"And by this time, Ardeth and I were together," Celia observed. Anck nodded with a watery smile. Going by guesswork alone, the American continued, "So. . .you led O'Connell, Ardeth, and me out. . .there were Med- jai remaining, and it was to them that we went. Probably because you risked your own life to save Ardeth, the Med-jai didn't kill you."  
  
*Tiyu. I took Anatol, Aleta, and Acacia with us. We went to the Med- jai city of Tiri, which was spared Imhotep's wrath, because he did not know about it. You also had something to do with my life being spared. You told the Med-jai that I protected Ardeth to the best of my abilities. You were only eighteen years old, but you were angry and frightened, and you would not back down until my safety was guaranteed,* Anck replied.  
  
She paused to take a breath, then went on, *After Senephra was born, I returned. Things remained quiet for the next twelve years, until your year 1933, the Year of the Scorpion. Imhotep was drawn to the legend of the Scorpion King, and by this time, he decided he did not have enough power. He would take the Bracelet of Anubis, and awaken the Scorpion King, then kill him. Word reached us of a Med-jai stronghold, and Imhotep wanted the Med-jai wiped off the face of the planet. Along with anyone else who stood against him.*  
  
"So. . .Rick, Ardeth, Evy and I decided we would stop him, except things played out much differently during this particular year of the Scorpion?" Celia guessed. She was having a hard time coming to terms with this version of reality, though she didn't doubt that Anck saw exactly what she told Celia about. Probably more, because Anck was utterly dedicated to protecting her, if only from unpleasantness.  
  
*Again, tiyu. Jonathan and Evelyn were sheltered by the Tiri Med- jai, after the fall of Suleiman Bey, and the deaths of your own parents. Their own parents were killed at the same time, you see, sacrificing themselves so the children could escape. Rick and Evelyn fell in love and married. They did have a son named Alex, who was eight years old in that 1933, but he was not the same Alex O'Connell. When we retrieved the Bracelet of Anubis, the four of you set out to stop Imhotep, while Jonathan remained behind with Alex, Senephra, and Miranda. . .who would have existed as Ardeth's own daughter,* Anck explained.  
  
She took another deep breath, then continued, *During the chase, Imhotep's front-man, Hafez, learned of Tiri, and about Senephra. He went to Med-jai lands, and kidnapped Senephra. She would be our insurance against intervention, or so he planned. Imhotep was furious that an innocent child, who could add nothing to the quest, was involved. But not as furious as I was, when I walked into the temple and saw my twelve year old daughter bound on altar of Anpu.*  
  
Celia knew that Anpu was the original name of Anubis, the name by which Imhotep and Anck-su-namun knew the god. Anck looked up, tears rolling down her cheeks, and said, *I made my choice. I would save my little Senephra, or I would die trying. And I did. Lock-nah killed me, for turning against his Lord, and as I died, I watched my daughter run into the arms of the only mother she ever knew. As I died, I saw Ardeth draw his sword to meet Lock-nah.*  
  
Anck wiped away her tears once more, adding, *I died before I could tell you, or Ardeth, or Senephra, how much I loved you. But that was all right, because you three were safe. Imhotep went insane when he saw me fall before Lock-nah's sword. Insane with grief. He. . .he seemed to suddenly realize that everything we fought so hard for, three thousand years ago. . .it was over. It was all for nothing. When Ardeth cut Lock- nah down, Senephra still weeping in your arms. . .Imhotep ordered all of remaining men to throw down their weapons and surrender.*  
  
"I don't imagine that went over real well," Celia murmured and Anck laughed in spite of herself. Celia looked at her friend, saying softly, "You placed your life at risk to save me and Ardeth, and then you sacrificed your own life to save your daughter. Stop doubting yourself, Anck. For all the mistakes you made, and the wrong turns. . .you still have a good heart. It was you who did those things, or would have done those things. . .not Meela."  
  
Anck's lips parted, as she finally came to understand what Celia was saying. Celia smiled at her, herself on the verge of tears, and said, "Don't you see, Anck? That is the reason why Ma'at believed that you deserved a chance at redemption, at atonement! For all the wrong you did, you still have a good heart. You still protect those whom you love, no matter what the circumstances. Believe it now, and for all time. Meela abandoned Imhotep. . .and it was Meela who stabbed Evy. Not Anck-su- namun."  
  
Anck started to take a breath, but Celia wasn't finished. She asked softly, "When Imhotep resurrected you the second time, at Hamunaptra, back in 1926. . .how aware were you? Of what was going on around you, of the people, aside from Imhotep? Focus only on that moment, not what came later." Anck frowned, her eyes narrowing as she concentrated. Celia watched her friend's expression change as she tried to focus on that moment.  
  
*I. . .I remember. . .settling into my body. Taking a breath, as I did the first time. And it hurt. Not just breathing. I was still dead, though my corpse was animated. And. . .the brightness from the girl on the slab next to me. It hurt. It. . .it is like being blind, and then suddenly, you are exposed to light. It hurts. She hurt me. I heard Imhotep tell her that her death would bring me back. She did not want to die. I wanted to live,* Anck replied, her words coming out in stops and starts.  
  
"You didn't know it was Nefertiri reborn, did you? You only knew that this girl, whose life shone from her with such brightness, was your ticket back to life. That was all you knew, that was all you needed to know. You didn't hate Evy. . .Nefertiri reborn. You hated that she was alive, and you were dead. You were lashing out. . .weren't you?" Celia asked softly. Anck lowered her eyes as she processed that.  
  
*I. . .do not know. I resented Nefertiri, yes, but I never hated her. I never really wanted to hurt her. Maybe scratches, or something, so she would understand what life was truly like. She was my student. And she learned so quickly. I. . .I told her that I would have to watch my back. But it was meant as a joke. And a compliment. But. . .* Anck replied softly. She looked at Celia, asking almost pleadingly, *Ardath understood that? That I would never harm Nefertiri? If I wished to do that, I would have never taught her to fight, to defend herself!*  
  
"You've convinced me, Anck. But I've never truly believed that you wanted to hurt Nefertiri, or Evelyn. You're the one who is doubting yourself. Anck, even before I got all of Ardath's memories back, I knew that you couldn't be as bad as you thought you were. Someone who loves with such abandonment, who is willing to sacrifice her life to save her man. . .even though I think you could have both escaped. . .there has to be some good there," Celia replied. She paused, then added softly, "You know, you and Rick O'Connell are a lot alike."  
  
Anck glared at her through her remaining tears, an indignant retort on her lips, but Celia trumped her, saying, "Oh, it's true. Let's see here. You both have good hearts, when you remember to use them, and you both tend to lash out blindly, usually without thinking. Okay, that was redundant. I'll phrase it this way. You lash out blindly, and get yourself into trouble by not thinking first. Is that better?"  
  
*Marginally,* Anck replied, and she was almost pouting. Celia tried not to smile, and Anck continued, still pouting, *You should take that cereal upstairs to your husband, before the whatever-they-are-called get all soggy. I do not think Ardeth would like that very much.* Celia stuck her tongue out at her friend, but picked up the tray and opened the swinging kitchen door with her hip. If she was in luck, Evy was still in bed.  
  
"So I should, but you're avoiding the question. Oh, and here's something else to scare you. The other reason why Imhotep can't stand Rick? Aside from the fact that he keeps foiling your boyfriend's attempts at world domination, of course," Celia replied, walking through the foyer and upstairs to the bedrooms on the second floor. She ignored Anck's muttered, 'I can hardly wait for this,' and continued, "It's because they're also a lot like. They're two sides of the same coin. Opposites."  
  
*You are right,* Anck replied with a shudder as they reached the top step, *that is frightening. Very frightening. Is Lock-nah, then, the diametric opposite to your husband?* Celia was on the point of answering, when Anck added, *Yes, he is. Polar opposites. Ardeth is no angel. . .but he does not inflict pain for the sheer pleasure of it. Lock-nah did. I had access to Meela's thoughts while we were merged in her body. She remembered him saying, when Meela mentioned the Book of the Living takes life away, that he thought that was his job. He enjoyed causing pain. Enjoyed killing. Enjoyed. . .*  
  
She stopped, her eyes flying to Celia's face. The American would have pressed Anck on the issue, but it was then that they arrived at the guest bedroom. Rick was still with her husband, but he rose to his feet and opened the door a little wider for her to enter with the tray. Anck was right. The tension in this room was significantly decreased. Ardeth looked tired, but a little less wary, while Rick looked more. . .at ease. And more hopeful.  
  
She said, "Well, the room's in one piece, and so are you both. I wasn't entirely sure if I should go downstairs and get this ready, leave the two of you alone." Anck snickered at her side, reassuring Celia that her friend would be all right. The battle to remind Anck of whom she was, once upon a time, was ongoing. But they made a lot of progress today. Rick glared at her, while Ardeth covered his smile with his hand. But Celia knew he was laughing, because his eyes were sparkling in that special way she loved so much.  
  
"That isn't funny," Rick grumped. That drew a full-throated laugh from Anck, and he glared at her, grumping further, "Stop laughing, dammit, or I'll. . .I'll. . .I'll. . .!" He glared at her all over again, though Anck refrained from pointing out to him that there wasn't much he COULD do to her, considering she was dead, and didn't have a physical body. Celia, however, had no such scruples.  
  
"Yes, Rick? Just what *are* you planning to do? She doesn't have a corporeal form, it's not like you can do anything to her, aside from stick out your tongue. Which would probably frighten her," Celia replied with a smirk. It was a good thing Anck didn't have a corporeal form. If she did, she would have been sliding down the wall, laughing hysterically by now.  
  
Rick glared at her and whined, "Be nice to me!" Now Anck's ghostly image was lying on the ground, laughing soundlessly. She was laughing so hard, she couldn't even breathe. Wait a minute. . .a ghost. Breathing. Never mind, she didn't want to follow through with that. Instead, Celia contented herself with torturing Rick in any way, shape, or form that she could. It was fun, after all. She had her husband back, and. . .  
  
"AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"  
  
Anck was on her feet immediately, telling Celia, *I hate to tell you this, but that sounded like Ardath when she went into labor.* She didn't need to tell Celia that. The American had Ardath's memories, after all, plus her own memories of going into labor with Miranda. The trouble was, by the time she was in *that* much pain, she was several hours into labor. Evy wouldn't. . .oh, yes, she would!  
  
"That's because Evy's been in labor for the last few hours, and didn't tell anyone!" Celia retorted grimly. Both men stared at her, wop- jawed, and Ardeth moved forward, as if he meant to get out of bed. Celia and Rick both stopped him, Celia adding, "You stay here!" To Rick, she added, "You, stay with him!" Then she looked at Anck, adding, "And you're coming with me!" She didn't even wait for Anck to nod. . .just flew out of the room.  
  
. . .  
  
"I *hate* it when she throws my own words back in my face!"  
  
O'Connell was pacing back and forth, making Ardeth very tired. The Med-jai said dryly as the other man made another pass across the floor, "You should get used to it. She makes a habit of doing such things. She has done it to me already. Unless you thought you were somehow special. . .?" He lifted his eyebrows at O'Connell, who swore at him in what Ardeth thought was French, but couldn't be sure.  
  
"Annoying little pain in. . .EVY!" O'Connell cried out, stopping dead in his tracks as another scream tore through the house. He started for the door, only to stop once again as Jonathan flung the door open. Right, in fact, into. . .oh, that must have hurt! O'Connell stumbled back, swearing and clutching at his face.  
  
"Oh, I say, old man, I'm sorry! Do you know what that loud screaming is?" Jonathan asked, blissfully unaware of everything which happened during the last few hours. Ardeth wondered if he left the house on errands, as he hadn't seen the Englishman at all since O'Connell first came to his room a few hours earlier. Jonathan looked at Ardeth and beamed, saying, "It's good to see you awake and alert, there, old boy! You had us quite worried!"  
  
"Thank you, Jonathan, for everything you did for my wife. She has told me that you took good care of her," Ardeth replied. Actually, she didn't. . .Ardeth saw it for himself, but Jonathan didn't need to know that right now. He continued after a moment, "And Evelyn has gone into labor, which is where Celia is now, along with Anck-su-namun." However, even as the words were spoken, the black-haired concubine phased into his bedroom.  
  
She looked at O'Connell, then at Ardeth, asking in ancient Egyptian, *What happened to him?* O'Connell scowled at her, which didn't seem to bother her in the least. Anck shrugged, turned her full attention to Ardeth, and said, *The baby is almost here. Celia wanted you to know, so you would keep O'Connell here a little longer. She is afraid he might come into the room while she is helping Evelyn, and end up underfoot.*  
  
*I understand,* Ardeth replied in the same language, *do you require aid from Jonathan? And where is young Alex?* Anck looked at Jonathan with a critical eye, then shook her head. Ardeth wasn't sure if she meant that she didn't need help at all, help from Jonathan, or if she didn't know where Alex O'Connell was. With this woman, it was anyone's guess, and Ardeth preferred not to guess.  
  
*No, Celia wants him to stay here. She thought you could use the help here, keeping O'Connell under control. And Alex is across the street. His mother sent him over to play a few hours ago. Celia believes that Evelyn has been in labor for several hours, but would not tell us. Do you believe she would be that foolish?* Anck asked. Ardeth just looked at her, trying to figure out exactly how he should answer that.  
  
*Foolish, no. Willful, yes. She is willful, and if she believes someone else is in greater need for attention than she. . ." he replied at last. Anck raised her eyebrows, grinning impishly. Ardeth learned to fear that expression in the last six months. When it didn't mean that she was getting ready to play a prank, it meant she was playing verbal chess, and she was preparing to take his king.  
  
*Oh. Just like you, then. Like brother, like sister,* Anck chirped, looking *very* pleased with herself. Ardeth glared at the woman, and Anck added, *Do not look at me like that, not when you collapsed at the train station, because you would not swallow your pride and stay here! You have absolutely no room to talk, and I intend to make sure you never frighten my little sister like that again!*  
  
Before Ardeth had a chance to answer her, Anck froze, murmuring, *I must go. Celia needs my help.* With that, she vanished once more. Leaving Ardeth to wonder exactly *why* his wife needed her. Anck could do nothing physical, as it required too much mental energy.  
  
Besides, Jonathan was sitting at the foot of his bed with a companionable smile. He looked from Ardeth to O'Connell and back again, asking brightly, "SO! Did you boys get everything cleared up between you?" Ardeth looked at the American, who was still rubbing his face, and Jonathan followed his gaze, adding in a stage whisper, "Turnabout is fair play, you know." Ardeth hid a smile and nodded gravely.  
  
O'Connell took up position on the other edge of the bed, saying, "One, I never opened a door in your face, and two, yes, we did. Where the hell have you been?" Ardeth raised his eyebrow at the other man questioningly. O'Connell added, "Sorry, Jonathan. It seems that my previous incarnation has decided to take me in hand and make me behave. I don't like people putting words in my mouth.*  
  
"Literally," Ardeth observed, enjoying this rare opportunity to tease O'Connell. It also gave him a chance to find this new balance he mentioned to the other man. O'Connell now knew how far he could push Ardeth. . .perhaps it was time for Ardeth to learn the same about the other man? Jonathan laughed at Ardeth's comment, while O'Connell muttered under his breath, the same question he always asked. 'Who are you and what have you done with Ardeth?'  
  
"Well. . .I'm glad you two have made up. Rick was getting on everyone's nerves. I say, Ardeth, did Anck tell you what was going on? I know Evy is in labor, but you two had a long conversation while she was in here," Jonathan asked. Ardeth settled against his pillows more comfortably, taking a bite of the cereal his wife prepared for him. He wasn't entirely sure what the small beige discs were, floating atop the milk, but he was willing to trust Celia.  
  
"Yes. . .Celia is with Evelyn, along with Anck-su-namun. They have asked that I keep you both here. Or rather, that I should ask your help in keeping O'Connell under control. The child is almost here, and Celia is afraid O'Connell would only complicate things right now," Ardeth replied, once he swallowed the mouthful. He realized, much to his shock, that the small discs were none other than sliced up bananas. He also discovered he liked that.  
  
O'Connell looked indignant, but didn't protest. Though the air was clear between them (a term Ardeth would ask Celia to explain to him sometime), he looked somewhat uncomfortable. The boundaries changed, and O'Connell seemed unwilling to speak out of turn. That in turn made Ardeth uncomfortable in some ways. He was not a man who gloated. He usually had little reason to gloat, so he did not know how.  
  
"Ah, Celia's afraid old Rick will get underfoot, is she?" Jonathan asked and Ardeth nodded. The Englishman was on the verge of saying more, when Anck phased back into the room, her lovely face wreathed in smiles. It was a genuine, from her heart smile. Not a smirk of malice or of triumph. But she was joyous about the new life which joined them, a new life which Ardeth and the other men heard in the cry of a newborn baby.  
  
However, that did not stop her from saying, first in ancient Egyptian, then in English, "Your daughter has arrived safely, Mr O'Connell. She is healthy and beautiful, and your wife has suffered no ill effects!"  
  
The room erupted in cheers, and all three men left the bed. At least, O'Connell and Jonathan got up from the bed and headed for the door. Ardeth was struggling to sit up properly. Anck cleared her throat rather loudly, and both O'Connell and Jonathan stopped dead. As one, they turned around and Ardeth looked up. . .to find a haunted expression in both pairs of eyes. He knew not what they saw. . .but it wasn't him, trying to ease the breakfast tray to one side.  
  
Jonathan took the breakfast tray and moved it, while O'Connell put his arm around Ardeth's waist and helped him to stand up. As he did in the bathroom earlier that day (was it the same day?), O'Connell murmured, "Easy, let me do all the work." This time, he could do that, for his legs seemed inclined to collapse. As Jonathan took his other side, helping him out the door and down the hall, Ardeth wondered once more what was going on. Later. He would find out later. Now, he had a niece to welcome into this world.  
  
. . .  
  
Anck phased back into the delivery room, where Celia was cleaning up Evelyn. Helping Ardeth would slow the other men down, giving her friend enough time to straighten up the room and return the babe to her mother. Anck heard Ardeth's thoughts, of course, as O'Connell and Carnahan turned to face him. She heard him wondering what they saw, and knowing they didn't see him, as he was.  
  
And he was right. Instead, they saw the same thing Anck did. Him falling to Meela's blade in the shade of the Golden Pyramid. They saw Rick O'Connell leaving him to die inside Ahm Shere, as the pyramid began its slow descent into the sand. She knew, because she saw into their minds. She knew, because she had that same image. . .those same images. . .burned into her own heart and soul.  
  
Now, they made their way down the hallway, the three men. Two supporting the third between them. And in the room, Celia placed the baby in her mother's arms. Anck stared at the child, this reincarnation of her own niece, of Miriam, who never had a chance to live. She vowed to protect this child, as she could not protect her in the past. She still did not know the baby's name, but that was not important.  
  
Inside the room, Celia was seated at the foot of Evelyn's bed. O'Connell kept ahold of Ardeth, while Jonathan Carnahan pushed the door to his sister's room open. Anck almost smiled, seeing the pixie-ish grin now decorating her best friend's face. Celia was sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed, her elbow resting on one knee, and her face cupped in that hand. She didn't look any older than fourteen or fifteen, and Anck recalled Ardath sitting in that exact position in the days before she came to the attention of Rameses.  
  
O'Connell helped Ardeth to sit down beside Evelyn, before leaning over to kiss his wife. Jonathan rolled his eyes, mouthing 'oh please.' Anck's smile widened, more than a little sympathetic. O'Connell and his wife got on her nerves as well. She was fairly certain that they kissed more often than Ardeth and Celia, and those two could get just as annoying. In a few minutes, Jonathan would leave the room to retrieve little Alex.  
  
For now, O'Connell stepped back and Evelyn placed her daughter in Celia's arms, before leaning forward to wrap Ardeth in a fierce embrace. She whispered against his hair, "We were so afraid we would lose you for good, Ardeth! I'm so sorry for everything. . .we all love you so much." She kissed his cheek, then pulled back. There was a devilish light in her brown eyes, and Anck wasn't entirely sure what was to come. Evelyn still hadn't told them the name of her newborn daughter, the reincarnation of Anck's niece, but. . .  
  
She took her daughter back into her own arms, handling the little girl as if she was a piece of fragile glass. With a bright smile, she said, "Everyone, I would like you to meet our new daughter. . .Nefertiri Ardath O'Connell. That's Ardath with an 'a,' just so you know." If she was capable of such things, Anck knew her eyes would have bugged out of her head. Did. . .did she say 'Ardath,' or was Anck hearing things? Did she. . .was Evelyn naming her daughter after Anck's forever friend?  
  
No. . .she wasn't hearing things. Evelyn named her daughter, in part, after Anck's beloved sister. The proof was in Celia's smug grin. How was it that Jonathan Carnahan put it once? She looked like the cat who ate the canary. What that meant, Anck wasn't entirely certain, but she was used to that. Ninety percent of the time, she had no idea what a particular saying meant.  
  
"Nefertiri Ardath? Evy, you sure you wanna saddle her with that?" Rick asked, then yelped as Jonathan gave him a brain duster. The American gave his brother-in-law a Look, but Jonathan didn't look in the least bit worried. Ignoring them both, Evelyn eased forward, though Anck saw her face tighten in pain. Nefertiri reborn placed this new Nefertiri into the arms of her brother's reincarnation.  
  
Or, at least, she tried. Ardeth pulled back, his dark eyes wide with fear. Evelyn said, "It's all right, Ardeth, you won't hurt her. Rick, not a word out of you, or you'll be sleeping on the floor of the guestroom for a month." Anck snickered. . .she knew just as well as Evelyn did what Rick was about to say. . .he meant to tease Ardeth about being afraid of a helpless baby. That wasn't the case and he knew it.  
  
Again, Evelyn gently nudged her daughter into Ardeth's arms, and this time, hesitantly, he took the child. There were other good reasons for him not to hold Nefertiri. He could be concerned about how weak he would be after being so sick. But he had no reason to fear, because as his arms closed around the infant, Evelyn braced her hands against his elbows, giving her own strength to him. She whispered, "This is your uncle Ardeth, sweet girl. You remember I told you about him?" Nefertiri made an indistinguishable noise. . .she could have had gas, for all Anck knew, but Evelyn said with delight, "You do remember! There's a good girl!"  
  
"She is. . .so beautiful," Ardeth whispered, staring down at the newborn. Anck swallowed hard, feeling a bittersweet emotion swamp over her. Perhaps it was because she told Celia about Senephra, a child who haunted her ever since Anck saw that alternate 1913 and proceeding timeline. But Anck felt suddenly envious of both Evelyn and Ardath, both of whom knew the sweetness of holding her own child.  
  
"Yes, she is. . .and this makes a lovely picture," Celia said, reaching over to rub her husband's shoulder. He flashed her a tired smile, and Evelyn took her daughter back. Ardeth gave up Nefertiri reluctantly. Anck didn't blame him. She wouldn't have wanted to give up that precious little girl for any reason. She didn't know if that was because Anck knew her to be the reincarnation of Miriam, the niece she never had a chance to love, or she was a reminder of what Anck might have had, in that what might have been. Or if there was something else.  
  
She would probably never know. Rick O'Connell said suddenly in a decisive voice, "Okay, enough ogling of the baby. Evy, back to bed. Jonathan, help Ardeth back to his own room. He's still recovering from being sick, and we don't want him relapsing." Anck raised her eyebrows at his authoritative tone, and Ardeth's sharp glance at the other man. So Anck wasn't the only one who noticed that he didn't give Ardeth a say in the matter, then.  
  
She was on the verge of pointing out to O'Connell that Ardeth was a grown man, and perfectly capable of deciding for himself when he would return to his bed. Then she saw the concern in his eyes when he looked at Ardeth, and realized that Rick was being protective of another man in the only way he knew how to be. He would never be what was called 'mushy,' but there were many ways to show affection.  
  
"Celia, would you put Nefertiri into her bassinet? I am sleepy," Evelyn acknowledged. Anck barely held back a grin at that. She was surprised Evelyn even admitted that. A conspiratorial wink from the Englishwoman, however, told Anck that she was trying to get Ardeth to go to bed, without being overt about it. Sneaky. Very sneaky. Ardeth Bey would always put the welfare of others above his own. And Evelyn knew that.  
  
So did Celia. She scooped Nefertiri into her arms, whispering softly to the child in ancient Egyptian. She knew. Celia knew that Nefertiri was the reincarnation of Miriam. Her daughter, her niece. Who else knew? A glance at Evelyn told her that there was a good chance the Englishwoman knew. Did Rameses tell her? Anck didn't know. She never discussed such things with her two friends.  
  
As Celia carried Nefertiri to her bassinet, Jonathan helped Ardeth to his feet. The Med-jai swayed a little on his feet, his face tightening with pain. Pain? Well. . .yes. He would be in pain. His muscles would be paining him. Evelyn looked to her husband expectantly, and O'Connell nodded. He put his arm around Ardeth's waist, allowing the Med-jai to lean against him, then the two able-bodied men helped their still-recovering friend from the room. From her position beside Celia, Anck could see the way Rick O'Connell reacted every time Ardeth even grimaced in pain. Like Celia, she knew that the American cared for Ardeth. But it was time Rick understood that for himself.  
  
The three women were silent for several moments. Looking over Celia's shoulder, Anck could tell that baby Nefertiri was already asleep, and Celia murmured, "She'll sleep, in all, about eighteen hours at this age. That's what I remember from when Miranda was a baby. And my grandmother told me that, when Jason was born." She looked up from the baby, a tiny smile on her face as she added, "I was five years old, and sooooo disappointed that my new brother would sleep so much. I thought he would be able to play immediately."  
  
Anck laughed, as did Evelyn. Celia's smile faded as she murmured her brother's name. She looked at them, asking softly, "Have I been unreasonable with Jason and with Rick? I. . .we, that is, Jason and I, we've made progress since Hamunaptra. But. . .I keep feeling that I should be doing more. Giving more. And Rick. I know he's trying. Would you have done any differently in my position, Evy?"  
  
The Englishwoman held her hand out to Celia, drawing her onto the bed beside her. Once Celia was seated, Evelyn replied in a low voice, "I think, Celia, that you have given so much to your brother over the last twenty-five years, that you're uncomfortable with taking. You don't know how, and that makes you feel like he's doing all the work. . .when the truth is, he's trying to balance the scales. Just as Rick is now."  
  
Evelyn paused, smothering a yawn with the back of her hand, then continued, "As for Rick. . .over the last few months, I've watched things deteriorate between the two of you. I can't imagine what it must be like, to find the other half of your heart after three thousand years. As memories of my previous lives return to me, I'm discovering that Ardeth was right. Again. There's never been a time when Rick didn't protect me, when he wasn't in my life. That's something you and Ardeth haven't had."  
  
Anck rolled her eyes and said, *Translation being, it bothers her, but given the circumstances, she's certainly not complaining.* Evelyn glared at her. Oops. She forgot Evelyn spoke the old tongue. No, she didn't. She did that on purpose. Well, if the silly girl would actually get to the point, there would be no need for Anck to finish her sentences for her! Anck added, just to further annoy Evelyn, *And if you are overly protective of Ardeth, you have good reason to be.* And stuck her tongue out at Evelyn, crossing her eyes at the same time.  
  
"Now, now, children, don't make me separate you," Celia said, laughing. She laughed even harder when Evelyn stuck *her* tongue out at Anck and crossed her eyes. Finding common ground is always necessary when creating something new. She found common ground with Ardeth Bey, for they were united in their determination to protect Celia. She was finding new common ground with Evelyn O'Connell, common ground of a different sort. Celia looked at them both when she brought her laughter under control, and asked in a voice filled with wonderment, "It really will be all right, won't it?" Anck just smiled at her. Yes, it would.  
  
. . .  
There were times when it was hard to tell Lady Ardath from Celia Ferguson. . . rather, Celia Ferguson Bey. Though she was now married to Ardeth, there were times Rameses found it difficult to remember. And this was one time when he saw no difference between his beloved and her reincarnation. In part because Rameses now saw the same wondering look on his Ardath's face that was visible on Celia's. And Ardath murmured, at the same time as her reincarnation, *It really will be all right, won't it?*  
  
And just as Anck thought only a moment earlier, Rameses replied, *Yes, my love. It truly will be all right, if only for now. For this situation has been resolved, and Rick O'Connell has turned a corner. When our child next needs him, there will be no hesitation on the part of O'Connell.* Ardath frowned at that. She knew of what he spoke, but she was uncomfortable with their part in this. . .or rather, their lack of a role.  
  
Rameses put his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him. He cupped her face in his hands, saying softly, *My love, my sweet Ardath. Our role is done here. We were needed to make O'Connell understand, and now he does. Anck-su-namun will remain behind, and she will care for our child. We cannot aid her, for this is something she must do alone, if we want Ardeth to survive the next great crisis.*  
  
She knew all too well what he meant. They knew some of what was to come, they learned of these things after Ardeth returned to his wife. But they were forbidden to tell the others. Especially Anck. That was something else Ardath found difficult. She never could lie to Anck, and rarely tried. Most people thought Ardath simply too honest to lie. . .or too simple-minded. . .but that, as ever, was an oversimplification.  
  
She could lie, and did lie, without hesitation. . .unless the other person, the person to whom she was lying, was someone for whom she cared deeply. Lying to Anck or Rameses was always nearly impossible for her. This lie of omission was as devastating to her as a lie of commission, but Rameses knew it was necessary. Even if Celia was convinced that Anck was essentially a good person who made some terrifically bad judgments, the ancient gods were another story, and Anck was still proving herself to them.  
  
They all knew how far Anck would go, to protect Ardath or Celia. That was made clear in the scenarios. She was prepared to sacrifice her very life, if need be. But the sacrifices she made to protect Ardeth, in the what might have beens, were not great at all. She took him to her bed to protect him, but he was young and handsome, gentle in spirit, and skilled in battle. There was no sacrifice in that. And by the time she took him to her bed, her love for Imhotep was slowly dying. At the same time, Imhotep had what he wanted, and fruit that was no longer forbidden was no longer so sweet.  
  
The question was, what would Anck sacrifice for Ardeth? In the real past, she sacrificed herself for Imhotep, to buy him time. But was it truly a sacrifice, since Imhotep was the only one who could resurrect her? Rameses didn't know. Nor did the gods, and that was why she would be tested once more. Unlike Anck herself, and unlike Thomas and Annabelle, Rameses was not surprised at the alternative realities in which Anck and Ardeth became lovers.  
  
They were so very different, after all. Opposites did attract, and in the alternate reality, beginning in 1913, Imhotep eventually turned away from Anck, though it took many years. He became caught up in power and ruling his new empire. He made the same mistake as always. . .and in the end, it cost him everything. Anck. . .his empire. . .his very life.  
  
In the reality which had Lock-nah missing Horus, Anck lost everything in the Golden Pyramid. When she awoke after being hit with falling rocks, she found that Imhotep was dead. Enraged, she drove Meela out of their shared body for good, destroying the lingering hold Meela had. She spied Ardeth lying on his side, near the edge of the crack in the floor which led to the Underworld. Ardeth, whom Meela killed. He was a Med-jai, a symbol of everything she hated.  
  
But he sacrificed his life for another, and that was something Anck understood well. For the first time in three thousand years, she allowed herself to look past the Med-jai markings, to see a man. An injured, exhausted man who would die, if she did not help him. In memory of the Anck who sacrificed herself so Imhotep could live, Anck ran forward and helped Ardeth to his feet, then guided him out of the temple and up to the safety of the dirigible.  
  
In the days and weeks, the months which followed, he was the one secure thing in her life. The one person to whom she could cling in this world she didn't recognize. The only reason the Med-jai did not kill her outright was because Ardeth clung to her as they disembarked from the dirigible. Then he told them that she saved his life. So long as she stayed with Ardeth, she was safe among the Med-jai.  
  
He was all she had left now, and she protected him with a ferocity which shocked the Med-jai. There was an incident, less than a week after Evelyn's death, when O'Connell saw his son talking to Ardeth. Enraged, the man attacked Ardeth, telling him that he killed Evy, but there was no way O'Connell would allow him to have Alex as well. Still shaky from the last two weeks, Ardeth was badly hurt during the attack.  
  
Anck's fury knew no bounds. The last thing Evelyn told her husband, after telling him to take care of Alex, was to take care of Ardeth, for he would blame himself for her death. By attacking the Med-jai, O'Connell was spitting on the memory of his wife. And Anck was not in the least bit shy about saying so. Anck's reaction shocked O'Connell, but it also made the Med-jai respect her. From that day, she was granted the courtesy of 'Princess.'  
  
As Ardeth grew stronger, so did Anck's desire for him. She saw him powerful and strong, in the final confrontation with Lock-nah in the jungle. Anck watched in fascination, even as Meela demanded to go to her champion. But Imhotep stopped her. He had no love for any Med-jai, but this man showed courage and honor sorely lacking in Lock-nah. No. Imhotep would take no action against Ardeth Bey.  
  
Anck also saw him fragile and vulnerable. There were no secrets between them, not of that sort. He was beautiful, gentle with her, and he needed someone. It was so long since she was needed. She could not resist such a combination, and one night, about four weeks after the attack by O'Connell, Anck went to Ardeth, went to his tent, and lay with him.  
  
Not surprisingly, he was as innocent in that reality as he was in this one, innocent in the ways between a man and a woman. For a time, Anck's life was a happy one. The Med-jai treated her with respect and courtesy during the day, and her nights with Ardeth were filled with magic. For even as she seduced him with her greater experience, he seduced her with his tenderness. But such happiness could not last, for in the end, Anck did not belong with him. Another did. . .and about six months after Evelyn's death, Anck learned the truth.  
  
She wept at first, railing against the gods for taking this man from him. But in the end, Anck could not fight fate. She left the Med-jai, left Ardeth after one passion-filled night. It was the only time she deceived him, for even as her caresses stole his breath away, she drugged his food. He slept for many days after that night, distracting the Med-jai from her disappearance. Her dreams led her to America, and to Evelyn's former penpal, Celia Ferguson. . .the reincarnation of Lady Ardath.  
  
Somehow, no matter what the reality, Fate always found a way to reunite the two lovers. The only exception was the first alternate reality, in which Ardeth died in 1926. But in all other possibilities. . . Ardath said softly, hearing Rameses' thoughts, *It was meant to be, my love, that our reincarnations finally be reunited. They found their way back to each other. They fell in love again. And they will remember everything they have forgotten.*  
  
Rameses looked at his love, his queen, his wife in all the ways which mattered, and smiled. He murmured, *And each of them will learn to balance their duties to the Med-jai people with their duties to each other. I fear Ardeth will need help in that respect. For sixteen years, the Med-jai have been his top priority. Now, he must learn to make his wife an important priority in his life. That will not be so easy, though he loves her greatly.*  
  
*Ardeth will learn. He will have help. . .but that, my love, is another story, for another time. Come. It is time we spent time with our own Ardeth,* his queen told him. Rameses smiled, stealing a kiss before stealing a glance at the reassembled magic circle. Rameses, Nefertiri, Anck-su-namun, Ardath, Nassor, Terumun. The only one missing was Imhotep. . .but that, too, would take time. No matter. Imhotep had forever, and what he failed to accomplish in this lifetime, he would have accomplish in the successive lives of the other members of the magic circle.  
  
Perhaps forever *was* long enough, after all. And in the end, both Anck and O'Connell were wrong. For the what might have beens could still be. Rameses looked down at his queen, then swept her into his arms, drawing giggles of delight. Aye, what might have been could still be. All it would take was a simple twist of fate. To ensure such a thing never took place was up to the mortals. Rameses did his part. . . now it was their turn. 


End file.
